Vagary
by casuallllfollower
Summary: Five years after the war, Harry has created something to explain seven years of fighting the most dangerous wizard the world has seen; with Hermione's help. Though, they're attacked before it can even be edited, and with it's disappearance, they awake to a world neither of them could have even imagined.
1. Prologue

Harry sat across from Hermione with his legs crossed, staring at her in an unfortunately heavy gaze. She hardly ever noticed the fact, however, her own brown eyes looking at the book that was so precariously placed before her. The words were ones that Harry had seen at least a few million times over, their meanings and sentences all things he'd placed down with intent on sharing with the world, though they'd have to get pass Hermione first.

How long the pair had been sitting in front of the window, with their tea getting colder by the second, was unknown to both witch and wizard. Their tea was cold by now, that much was sure, and the sun was well above the world, shining straight through onto them making the summer all the less bearable. Then again, summer had never been bearable when in such heavy wizarding robes.

Five years after the war, and both Harry and Hermione reveled in this chance to just be alone with their friends and family. Neither had initiated any relationships, nor had they sought one out. It had been far easier to simply wait a while, work on their careers in the ministry, and heal. Harry was happily residing in Grimmauld Place, the bachelor he was, and with all the free time he found, it looked homely enough for visitors and the likes. Especially with a pleasant Kreacher mumbling about the place.

Hermione lived humbly in her flat alone, casually flirting with an attractive neighbor, but no more occurred than that. She enjoyed the constant work the ministry provided her, allowing her to often delve into the most interesting of books. The young witch enjoyed when her invites to Grimmauld lasted a few nights, and her and Harry speculated over cases together. Ron would stop by, but he never stayed, always worried over his family and helping George with his business.

Finally, the last page turned of the book Hermione had been reading and smiled brightly at her staring companion.

"Your autobiography is perfect Harry," she said, smiling, "I adore the way you try and give Ron and I far more credit than we deserve."

Harry laughed in response, but he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, a knowing look in his eyes, "There is a 'but' coming, I reckon?"

"But," Hermione sighed, "You need an editor."

"You sound as though you are volunteering," Harry stated hopefully, watching her smile widen, her magic swelling about her.

"I thought you'd never ask," Hermione admonished, pulling a red pen seemingly from nowhere as she snapped the book back into her hands.

"At least wait until I'm not here, I would hate to witness you tearing it apart."

"Fine," the brunette agreed.

"How is that neighbor of yours?"

Harry's companion rolled her eyes, though she did make to reply.

Harry attempted to listen, truly, but after four years of being an Auror, his focus was more attuned to the dark figure walking down the rather light Diagon Alley. He was cloaked in black, rather odd robes hanging from his limbs as though he didn't belong to the British Wiarding community.

"Hermione," he stopped her, jerking his head towards the alley in hopes that it wasn't just him seeing this. Her eyes widened, though, as she took in the figure as well.

When its wand raised, Hermione pulled herself and Harry below the edge of the windowsill, a spell hitting the glass moments after.

"Thanks," he said, though he was already standing as she attempted to tell him to wait it out.

The figure cast another spell, but Harry just as quickly cast Protego, though it didn't help much as it turned anyways and cast another spell towards the window. Was he attacking Hermione? She had decided to stay ducked below the window, her wand in her hand, poised to attack if he got close.

"Expelliarmus," Harry attempted, though it seemed not to help as the figure flicked his wand at Harry and knocked him down. That hadn't happened in years, since Dumbledore had fought Voldemort his fifth year.

There was no point in attempting to leave the shop as people screamed since the figure moved forward enough to nearly step through the window, it and Harry throwing spells at one-another. Though, his spells from the floor did little less than Hermione's were popping up from below the window.

Finally Harry stood, his wand directly pointed at the figure, but his wand wasn't anywhere near close to pointing at Harry, or Hermione for the matter. Glancing back, the wand was certainly not pointed to a customer, as they had all fled… it was pointed to his draft, a spell leaving the figure that admittedly even Harry hadn't heard, and by the looks, neither had Hermione. The distraction worked all too well as the book suddenly vanished with Hermione's red pen, and then Harry saw Hermione fall unconscious, and he was aware of the danger this figure presented once again.

Though, there was little he could do about it when a powerful spell knocked him back towards a wall of the cafe and he, too, fell prey to the blackness that was unconsciousness.

A/N

Hello lovelies! So, obviously I am a new writer to this site, but in no means am I a _new_ writer. I have had three years experience on other writing sites, and I am now here as well! This is just my prologue, obviously, so real chapters will be much longer, I promise!


	2. Show Me the Ropes

_Vagary_

va·gar·y

/vāɡərē/

 _noun_

 _an unexpected and inexplicable change in a situation or in someone's behavior_

When Harry awoke, the first thing he did- and the only thing he'd ever imagine doing- was scramble over to Hermione to see if she was alright. Not too much time seemed to have passed, luckily enough, as he noticed just a few people, staring at the duo, who'd taken refuge within the cafe from the attack. There was almost no one in the alley itself, but Harry was more worried over Hermione as she rubbed her head and looked at him wearily.

"What happened?" She nearly hissed at him, sounding quite a bit disappointed.

"Dunno," Harry replied pathetically, "I got distracted when my book vanished."

"It vanished?" Hermione replied in horror.

She sat up quickly and grabbed her wand, pulling Harry up as she stood and looked around uncertainly, any disappointment she may have held in the auror completely diminishing.

"Yeah," Harry said all the while, holding her close.

The brunette witch seemed to notice something Harry didn't, however, and with a near unreadable expression, they were apparating no matter how unfit Harry felt it was for them to do so. They were in the halls of Grimmauld, but no quicker did he notice that than how he watched Hermione thrust his hand before her eyes. What was there startled them both, but she had it ripped from his ring-finger before any speech occurred.

"H.P. and D.M., two-thousand and one," Hermione muttered as she read the inside of the ring, "Thank Merlin."

"What are you on about, 'Mione?" A distressed auror wondered aloud, also curious as to when he'd gotten a ring shoved on his finger.

Looking quite the bit annoyed, she put her left hand before his eyes where a silver ring nearly identical to his and an engagement ring encased one of her nimble fingers.

"Oh," Harry clamped his mouth shut, hoping to appease the witch.

Backing away from him, the brightest witch of her age let the boy-who-lived wonder about where exactly they were while she took off her ring and read the inside of hers.

"H.G. and S.S., two-thousand and two."

"We're married," Harry mumbled, "Not to each other, obviously," he added in a stutter.

"Quite." Hermione started to pace, looking about the house in an odd stupor.

It was obvious to them both that something had happened when they were attacked, that something had shifted time in some abuse. Nothing was what it seemed, obviously, but why…

"Your book," The pacing witch answered almost immediately after Harry had wondered the question, reaching his hand out for the ring she was thrusting back at him, "That figure must have transported it back somehow, that's why it vanished."

"You mean that it changed time?" Harry asked, befuddled to say the least, "What do you think is different?"

"I have no idea, Harry, but we are probably going to have to be careful, if it landed in the wrong hands, things could be much more different than we'd like."

"Right," he replied quickly, hearing the sudden absence of a sound they probably should have noticed in the first place; a shower.

Harry's Auror training kicked in almost immediately, pushing Hermione behind him as they both drew their wands, the bathing room door opening with a squeak. The stairs creaked as well, as Hermione whispered to Harry suddenly, "What if it's your wife?" Though she sounded a bit skeptical.

Harry just shook his head, holding his wand tighter.

Though, neither seemed to expect to see the blonde hair that greeted them, nor the face below such wet and scraggly strands.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

Though Harry had an awful feeling he knew the answer when Hermione tensed at seeing him, he wanted an answer before anything else.

"Last I checked, we lived here."

"Harry," Hermione whispered almost immediately, "I think we know who D.M. is."

Lowering his wand for the sole reason he felt far too weak to hold it in the air, Harry breathed heavily, feeling his chest inflate with a mix of fury and utter confusion.

"What happened at lunch, Herm?" Malfoy asked, looking right pass Harry and at Hermione with about as much fondness as they'd ever seen on his face.

"I-" Hermione seemed to falter, stepping up beside Harry as they shared a rather disconcerted glance.

"I've got to sit down," Harry broke whatever silence it was that Hermione had created, waltzing directly pass Malfoy without a single touch, his gait leading him into the kitchen without another word.

Sighing, Hermione gave Malfoy a rather sympathetic look and followed her friend immediately, knowing that he was probably having a dreadfully hard time with all that had just happened.

Harry had pushed through the wooden door, swinging it open with a huff as he pulled the first chair he could with a screech and threw his body into it like he would his old Quidditch robes. The boy-who-lived didn't want to dare think about anything involving his marriage to Malfoy, for surely someone must be pulling a joke on them, he was _sure_. Hermione, however, didn't look as sure when she sat before him and took his hands away from rubbing his tired visage.

"I understand how you must feel, Harry."

"Do you, Hermione?" He asked her immediately, but it didn't last long when she recoiled, almost letting go of his shaking fingers, "I'm sorry."

Their grip was tight as they looked at one-another, green and brown eyes wavering in a new bond. Everything felt like it had happened in the blink of an eye, like lightning had hit and now all of hell had broken loose. Those few seconds as they shared the stagnant air and musty smells were the first few seconds of peace they'd had since that hooded figure attacked them.

"Do you remember anything from this… time? I suppose with your story gone, that means it really did end in someone's hands who allowed the future to change. It's rather bizarre, if you think on it."

"I reckon, but I don't remember a thing about this," Harry answered her rightly, "You?"

"No," She replied the same, her breath shaky when released from her pale lips.

Both parties were stunned, though not as stunned as when they'd seen Malfoy walk down the stairs. It was only then they realized he was shirtless, thinking back on the memory.

"Malfoy!" Hermione called, hearing sudden footsteps again as Harry tossed her a rather rancid glare. It reminded her of Ron, momentarily.

"What are you doing that for?" Harry questioned in distress.

"We need to get answers, and we can't just go ask anyone who we are and what's happened the past 23 years, can we?" She retorted just before Malfoy waltzed into the kitchen, his face worried.

"Is everything alright?"

"No, it is not," Hermione answered him with dignity, standing up and releasing Harry's hands, though it only distressed the wizard more than previous.

"Oh… alright then, how can I help?" Malfoy replied, his eyes glancing at his husband with a bit of worry, obviously wishing to reach out and touch him… though he could tell it probably was not in his best interest.

"We need a quick recap of the past 23 years."

Surprise lit up the blonde's face as he nodded carefully, "Yeah, I reckon I can do that."

Hermione sat back down in her seat, dreadfully surprised Draco Malfoy had accepted such a request without batting an eyelash.

So, while Malfoy seemed to gather his thoughts a bit, grabbing a chair and such, Harry looked around the kitchen and dining area, sighing in content to see such a place. It didn't seem to be that much changed bar a few pictures he couldn't really see- Hermione had been harping him for weeks to get new prescriptions for his glasses- and the whole of it looked much cleaner. There was a bit of a sparkle to the place, really, and it was obvious that there were two people living there now that Harry got a good look at it. This also made him curious as to why the entrance hall was still grey and dark like it had always been.

"Well, Harry, Ron, Blaise, and I all grew up together. It was just the four of us for a long while, as our parents were all good friends-"

"The Malfoy's associated with the Weasley's?" Hermione blurted, earning her an amused look.

"Yes, like I said, our parents were good friends. My dad worked with Arthur a lot in the ministry, and my dad, well, he was in love with your mum, Harry, but everyone knew your parents were destined or some muggle fantasy she always spoke about-"

"What?" Harry interrupted, though he had comprehended exactly what Draco Malfoy had told him.

"I will explain, just let me do it, will you two?" Malfoy said, a bit harshly, though he calmed down just after his words.

Hermione suspected highly it was confusion about that lack in explanation for the display they'd just put forth.

"Of course," She answered for her and Harry, taking the liberty of casting a charm on him that he tossed her a very crude glance for, muttering his own end to it.

"Anyways," as Malfoy started again, both wizard and witch could see how odd he felt, explaining a life to two people who were supposed to know it already, "It was just the four of us, growing up together as the best of friends. We were bloody thrilled when we got to Hogwarts, even after being separated into two different houses where Harry and Ron met you, Hermione. Luckily enough, Slytherins and Gryffindors had most of our classes together. It was funny, actually, how we started just… being friends with you because you would not leave us alone. We all snuck out one night, near Hallow's Eve, and we all got caught because you turned us into Ron's older brother Percy. For some reason, only known to eleven year-old boys, we decided that you were our mate after that. The loudest howler wasn't even Molly's, funny enough, it was definitely Lily's, I think she was royally-"

"Wait," Harry couldn't help himself, "My mum and dad, they're…?" He trailed off and looked right at Hermione with sheer uncertainty, her own mind obviously wondering the same thing.

Squinting a bit, Malfoy cocked his head and said rather stupidly, "They're in Godric's Hollow… like they've always been."

Though, the stupid answer was exactly what Harry needed to be rather giddy, even as he attempted to corral the feelings so Hermione would not scorn him. Though, Hermione looked almost as giddy. Then there was Draco Malfoy who looked about as pleased as Snape was on a good day: which wasn't pleased at all.

"Just wait a minute, Malfoy, as you can tell, we went through some interesting magic these past few hours, and got shifted from one timeline to another where Harry's parents _aren't_ dead." Hermione had stressed her words so that the man before her understood their admittedly annoying interruptions.

"You mean, time changed from what you guys remember to what I… and the rest of _everyone else_ remember?" The duo guessed that he now had to understand a bit more of their uncertainty now.

"Quite," Hermione replied with pursed lips and a straight back.

"Bollocks."

"My sentiments exactly," Harry agreed, though he looked a bit sick about it.

"Do you want me to go on?"

"Please," the duo spoke simultaneously, smiling falsely.

Both were extremely uncomfortable, if not more so, as they sat before someone who recalled living an entire life with them that neither knew at all. Harry hated the affection he could sense coming off of Malfoy, and as he nervously fiddled his wand, he could tell Hermione hated it too.

"So, we got to really know each other first year, but after that, it was downhill, or uphill? Regardless of your muggle euphemisms, the five of us were it. Hermione, you and I graduated top of the class, but you beat me by a single O in History of Magic because I missed class that day in seventh year.. Best not to tell you what for," Malfoy looked over at Harry, however, and the three of them could probably guess well enough.

"Over the years," he continued, "The lot of us all wanted to work in the ministry like our parents before us, though you never wanted your father's place, Harry."

As if pausing for dramatic effect and to see if the pair was willing to interrupt, Malfoy withheld the information for a solid breath.

"James Potter, Minister for Magic. Now I can tell you have always wanted to be as influential as you could, Hermione, but certainly not powerful. I think one day, James will gladly hand over such a title to you.

"I don't work anymore, but I bloody well tried. Wasn't for me, besides, Harry goes out and almost gets killed enough for the both of us as an Auror. Hermione you're head of a department now, Blaise is running around somewhere on this earth with Pansy, bonkers he is, never worked a day in his bloody life. And Ron," at this Malfoy scowled heavily, even against the fondness he spoke of the man earlier, "is currently dating my little sister, but he works with the older Weasley's, Fred and George."

Hermione and Harry had to hold their breath.

"Aries, Merlin save me, insists he is who she's going to marry, but blimey, I hate even looking at them. For a while I thought she was going to end up with Luna, but I could never tell if those two were just friends or not. You know, they're both off in their own worlds more than Harry here is trying to get himself killed, which I swear at this point us Potter's should own a portion of Mungo's for-"

"Malfoy?" Hermione interrupted his seemingly vicious need to ramble on like Hagrid when he _wasn't_ supposed to be saying things. Though, knowing Malfoy took Harry's name also startled her as well to make sure that she stopped him before Harry looked any further pale.

"Is there anything else we should know?" Harry asked regardless of the sickness he felt coming forth, his stomach lurching at the mere thought of having to share his house with Draco; let alone a bed.

"Not that I can think of… might be best for you lot to ask questions," he said sincerely, "I'll be as much help as possible."

The blonde wizard looked rather calm as he crossed his legs, his clothes fitting rather nicely considering how muggle they were. Harry was distracted to see his left hand resting elegantly on the upright leg, silver ring encasing the same finger as his own did. Though, Harry couldn't hate Malfoy just then, pity, maybe, but not hate. This was a man who knew a completely different world, a different Harry Potter. All the thoughts in his jumbled and rather abused mind distracted him enough that Hermione asked the first question.

"Tom Riddle, does the name have any significance to you?"

Draco's eyes widened, and he sat to attention in a matter of seconds.

"Yes, it does. He was a magical child, killed at a very young age by Albus Dumbledore. He is in Azkaban to this day, and there's rumors that the dementors are so afraid of him that he still has his mind all these years later."

Both Hermione and Harry sat in shock, though the witch was able to snap out of it much more quickly than her wizard companion.

"You mean to say that he was never Headmaster of Hogwarts?"

"Well, he was just long enough to hire the new Headmistress, McGonagall, before the aurors found him out and arrested him."

That earned a sigh of relief, and an explanation from Hermione. She explained to Draco Malfoy the things Riddle had done in their timeline, how he had murdered and so forth… how Harry's parents had died. It struck the blonde many ideas of why Dumbledore had done such a thing, now, but somehow he still felt queasy about the murdering a child.

"My god-father, Sirius-" Harry started, but the other wizard seemed disinclined to let him finish.

"Spoiled you rotten, but after you hit third year, he started travelling. Right now he's in Romania with Ron's brother Charlie, studying dragons."

Harry smiled far-off, and Hermione seemed to look proudly at her friend.

"What about the Potter's and Black's friend, Remus Lupin?"

"You mean Professor Lupin? We had him for seven years worth of dark arts instruction. Best teacher in the school no offense to you, though, Hermione."

"You said I don't teach there," Hermione answered with a bit of a pale to her cheeks, her eyes widening with a doe-eyed look.

Harry knew that look, he'd known it for many years of chasing down a horrid wizard, it was a look that meant she knew something awful.

"Your husband does," Draco smiled as if he'd already told her, almost looking worried about her. He must know the look too, Harry surmised, though he wished at least one of them would clue him in on what they knew.

"My husband… Severus Snape?"

It was then Harry wished he hadn't ever heard her say the possibility or see Malfoy nod in the positive, Merlin, he wished his curiosity would have just let him not care to know who her husband was. Though, the awful info lead him to come to the resuce.

"Do you know anything about Hagrid?"

" _Professor_ Hagrid," Malfoy answered again, "In-"

"Care of Magical Creatures?" The boy-who-lived replied, wondering if that title even stood any longer.

"Exactly. All seven years as well. He is a right odd wizard, though, I must admit."

"Wizard?" Hermione echoed, brows knit past the horror that was confirming the identity of her husband.

Harry felt it hardly compared to being married to Malfoy, but he wasn't going to tell Hermione that, not when she'd posed a question that also entered his own mind.

"Yeah, he went to Hogwarts too, just like most of the staff. If I did my math correctly, he would have been at school with Riddle, right?"

"Yes, but Hermione left out that Riddle would have caused Hagrid to lose his wand, atop the many other things he did like how he would have killed a young girl named Myrtle Warren."

"Ah," Malfoy replied, though it didn't ease the tension that had come from the room.

He seemed to realize something, however, looking at the watch on his wrist in great interest.

"Bollocks," he said and looked wide-eyed at the both of them, "Dinner is in a few hours."

"And?" Hermione asked him, her contempt shining through the cordial way she'd been acting with him just then.

"It's just the lot of us, actually, but we had dinner planned for tonight. You two, Severus, my father, and Harry's parents-"

"What about your mother?" Hermione questioned the blonde again, a small smile returning to her visage.

"She passed on after having Aries… neither of us knew her well, I was Harry's age when the Potter's died in your world."

"Narcissa saved my life in that world, so she wasn't all that bad."

Hermione nodded in agreement with Harry, and it seemed if Malfoy hadn't looked at Harry with love before, he certainly was then.

"You should get home to Severus, Hermione. You'll be back here soon, and it is Friday, so we'll have the weekend to figure this out. Do you plan on telling anyone else?"

"No!" They both shouted, though both Hermione and Harry wanted to shout to the world that neither were who it thought they were just to relieve the stress of what was happening. Though, both were on a level of knowing that there would only be more harm done than good.

"Alright, alright, but should I help you home? Or maybe you can take the floo?"

Both parties were distressed about being separated in such a foreign environment, but there was an unspoken understanding as well that this too would happen eventually, may as well be now.

So Hermione left, and both were left on their own to deal with this new world until they could see each other again.


	3. Life Through Photographs

When Malfoy returned from showing Hermione where exactly in Grimmauld the floo was and where she was supposed to enunciate towards, he returned to a rather mollified Harry Potter, who looked up at the sound of the door sliding open and closed again.

"You look like you need a drink, Harry."

"Thanks, Malfoy, but if I'm going to see my parents tonight for the first time without ghosts or magic mirrors, then I want to be sober." As much as his reply was slightly humorous, he had to bite back the ending of how being married to a Malfoy definitely might have convinced him otherwise.

"Are you nervous?" Malfoy asked unsurely, sitting where Hermione had been before, next to Harry at the rather large dining table that Number Twelve Grimmauld Place possessed.

"A bit," Harry admitted hesitantly, looking at his husband with guarded expressions. No amount of auror training or encounters with Voldemort could have prepared him for this specific situation.

"It's so weird, you know?" It seemed that Malfoy had no such reservations, "All this nonsense, it's almost like you lost your memory."

The man shrugged, a rather misplaced action on a prideful Malfoy, but so was the awkward smile.

"I reckon. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" Harry wasn't entirely ready to even think some of the questions brimming at the edge of his mind, but the cauldron had already been stirred.

"Of course." Malfoy bit his tongue at the affectionate name he nearly clipped onto the end of his answer, it was obvious to Harry when his lips pursed.

"When did we get together?" The black-haired man could have choked on such a question.

"September first, nineteen ninety-seven. The beginning of our seventh year at Hogwarts. We had a compartment to ourselves since you told Ron and Blaise to scram, and Hermione was worrying over her Head Girl duties. I remember that day dreadfully clearly, because we had been flirting all summer, but you denied any fancy you had to me the moment someone asked. I think your mum told you something ridiculously Potter of her before you got on the train and just asked me."

Harry laughed, wishing he understood what Malfoy meant about his parents… wishing he knew his parents at all. The feeling in his chest could easily be identified as jealousy when Harry took a good look at it with his green eyes. James and Lily Potter were foreign entities to him, but right there in that moment, Draco bloody Malfoy knew more than he did about his own parents. Hatred and jealousy ran easily through Harry's system when he thought on how Malfoy had grown up knowing the sweet things Lily said to Harry when he was nervous, and the heroic way James Potter handled being Minister of Magic.

The hate krept out easily enough with a bit of heavy thought, because Harry was smart enough to know that it wasn't Draco's fault, but the _jealousy_ stuck close to his heart like a blood clot. Malfoy knew his parents better than Harry probably ever would, and such thoughts made the grip on his phoenix-feather wand all the more tight. The boy-who-lived felt robbed of precious memories, more so now than he ever had when the Dursley's had told him about his parents dying in a car crash and Hagrid telling him quite the opposite. This jealousy ran deeper than he ever imagined it could have…

Then there was the righteousness running through his veins that told him he very well couldn't act like such a snob. Harry Potter had the chance to meet and live happily with his youthful parents for the many wonderful years to come. They were in their forties, so very young for a bonded wizarding couple, and that made some of his hurt at missing so many wonderful moments with them dull. He had wanted his parents his whole life, even after becoming an auror and making his way through the world as an adult. It was all he'd ever wanted, through war and through hard times, Harry had wanted his parents. This was his chance, and he couldn't waste it being bitter.

Though, something told Harry deep inside of his being that the fight between rage and thankfulness would continue on for quite a bit.

"When did we get married?" Harry asked regardless of Hermione telling him earlier when she'd plucked his ring from his finger.

Malfoy seemed to be on the same wavelength as he pulled off his own ring jokingly and stared at it much too far away from his eyes to actually be able to read anything at all.

"We were bonded at exactly eleven on September first, two-thousand and one."

"We're sentimental blokes, aren't we?" Harry jested, feeling sort of alright with the situation if only for a few moments to make the joke.

"You could say that," Malfoy smiled, laughing lightly with Harry, even if he looked quite the bit in pain.

There was guilt surfacing in him, wondering how exactly Malfoy was dealing with knowing that his husband sat before him, not recalling a single thing about the love they shared. He felt all the more guilty in realising that he was momentarily jealous of Malfoy for knowing his parents when the poor bloke hardly knew a thing about his own mother. Still, the war went on.

"Were we planning on having kids?"

"Our own?" Malfoy joked, but it was lost on Harry who was very solemn in his demeanor. Clearing his throat, the blonde said, "Yes. We were going to adopt from a wizarding orphanage pretty soon, actually: we were quite ready."

"Oh… you might want to add on a few more _years_ to 'soon'," Harry said wearily, "You know neither Hermione nor I recall a thing from this… _timeline_ , right?"

"I do," Malfoy sighed, "I guess I just hoped… how about I show you some photograph albums? They might not jog your memory, but they'll help me tell you the story. Besides, Kreacher might get mad at us if we loiter in his kitchen any longer while he's trying to prepare a meal."

Harry nodded, knowing well enough not to cross Kreacher when cooking.

They both stood, though Malfoy looked a lot more comfortable with the place than Harry was in that moment. Even if he'd been living there the past few years of his life, he couldn't imagine Malfoy doing the same… _with_ him. Unfathomable things were tangible here, however, so it was best Harry attempt to blindly accept what was coming.

"I've got a quite a few of the albums, they're a mix of muggle and magical pictures."

The first thing placed before Harry was a book that had two intertwined hands in the clear window carved into the cover. It was obvious the photograph didn't come with the book, and Harry was unendingly curious over what the thing itself would hold.

"That's us," Malfoy seemed to answer his unspoken inquisition, "You took it with this bloody annoying muggle camera that _clicked_ of all noises, and I hated it, but only because it was the first time we held hands."

"We really are sentimental sods."

Without reply, though the black-haired man did seem to catch the edge of a smile, Draco Malfoy pried open the album as it made a few cracking noises, the binding protesting its sudden use.

Two photographs lay on the first page, one on the next, as Harry seemed to realize that the first two were taken by respective partners, and the next was taken by a third party.

"I took one of you while in a muggle park," the smiles were unwavering, definitely muggle, "And then you of me. We had literally no one with us that day because you'd bloody apparated us off the grounds with Lupin's help. I swear you were always his favorite no matter what he said, and we were stranded."

"I doubt that, Malfoy," Harry said with a scoff, though amused his husband was not.

If anything, the blonde looked rather put off, shrinking into himself even if there was no physical sign of change.

"It's… Potter, now, but…" The rest of his words were unintelligible to Harry as he watched the grey eyes of his partner glance away, lithe fingers flipping to the next page.

"When was this?" The black-haired wizard wondered as he pointed to another photo of them, seeming to be somewhere in Hogwarts….

"Hermione took it," the picture of them moved as they laughed together, arms touching enough to be recognized as wanting to be doing a little more than that. "She refused to let you take a picture of her when she realized you'd charmed the camera to take muggle and magical photos, so she snapped it from you and got this."

"When did she start seeing Snape?"

"Severus and her started seeing one-another after we left Hogwarts, but she had far too many extra-classes with him for them all to be Occlumency lessons."

Harry doubted Malfoy's doubts, but the hurt on the man's face deterred him from speaking out.

"These ones?" His fingers pointed to the next page where there were lots of sweets involved, and way more candles than Hogwarts was ever known for having during normal times.

"All Hollow's Eve. You had a field day with half the school high on sugar, the other half looking sick to their stomachs."

"It's mostly our friends."

"Exactly."

There were a few people Harry didn't recognize, but he did notice the lack of a presence which disturbed him greatly considering all they'd been through together. Her thin face and her red hair was nowhere to even be found in the photographs, not even the magical ones.

"Where's Ginny?"

Malfoy sighed, rather dramatically had you asked Harry, but the black look excused the noise.

"Ginny passed on in her fourth year. It was really hard for a lot of us, especially for my sister and Luna, but we persevered."

"What happened?" Harry wondered, frowning deeply at the mere thought of Ginny not being around, their relationship being non-existent if she hadn't lived to her fifth year. It stung something deep inside of him that he had suppressed, just like she had, when the war ended. They'd talked about reigniting the flames, blowing on the kindles to see how big they could get those flames, but with Fred's death waxing heavy on Mrs. Weasley, water had doused such a thought.

"A muggle sickness, the medi-witches never really specified to the kids, and I don't think Molly wanted anyone to know anyways, it might have made it worse; knowing."

Harry nodded merely to form a reply, but he felt all words would have been useless anyways in mourning of a girl he had loved at one point. And he had, loved her, loved Ginevra Weasley to a point of no return, yet nothing came of it. What came of it was a book that lead him being married to Malfoy, no Ginny Weasley in sight.

"And your sister, she was horribly affected."

There were many things that Harry had heard over the past minutes that had had the boy-who-lived ready to sacrifice himself to Death, but nothing quite as earth-shattering as him having a sibling, let alone a _sister_.

"You didn't have a sister in your _recollection_ , did you? Because of Voldemort."

Shaking his own head of unruly black hair, Harry proclaimed his answer most definitely.

Pink lips in a slight 'o' that were accompanied by fluttering eyelashes made Harry quite uncomfortable as he shifted back to the albums and tried to take in the fact that he had a sister somewhere out there in the wizarding world, and he knew nothing about her. Again, almost tirelessly, the jealousy swept into Harry's mind at how Draco Malfoy knew about his family all the more than he did. He had a sister that he probably loved, who… bloody hell he couldn't even fathom what they were to one-another because he _didn't know her_. So many emotions attacked him, his magic in a deafening whirl about his head as he struggled to grasp just a sliver of what Malfoy told him.

"What's her name?"

"Iris Lily Potter."

Harry smiled, though knowing just her name didn't heal any of the hurt that was displayed blatantly on his face.

"Can you tell me about her?" He asked eagerly, knowing that Dinner was coming closer and closer, but he wanted to be familiar with his own bloody sister, at least a little bit.

"She was two years below us in school. Pretty smart, a Gryffindor through and through. She was a chaser, though, she didn't obtain the family lineage of Seeker. Red hair like her mum, if I didn't know Lily, I'd say James had nothing to do with making her since she's so utterly her mother. Besides her mischief, which is usually bearable. She plays pro Quidditch now, with the Hollyhead Harpies."

The information made Harry all the more queasy as he sat back, ignoring the photographs as he closed his eyes in thought. There was just a lot to take in, and he wasn't quite sure how much new information he could handle after everything thrown at him. One moment he was writing about the years he knew so well, the trials that had made him the man he was, and now none of that mattered a wink. It was all for naught as he sat in a world where everything seemed perfect, to an extent. He was sure besides Ginny and Narcissa's death, there were other things that would make this place just as equally overbearing as his other home had been. Call him crazy, but Harry even missed the way he and Malfoy avoided one-another like the plague.

"Eventually it will all make sense, yeah? You will love it here, no matter how insane I sound to myself right now," Malfoy protested, smiling slightly.

They were on two different ends of a couch Harry knew well, the feeling of scratchy plaid and wool familiar enough that it nearly made him smile. Though, the familiarity of Grimmauld Place wasn't going to be enough for Harry to merely forget that he was married to Malfoy, that his humor was suffocating Harry as he tried to forget that this man before him was looking at his husband… and Harry was looking at his enemy. There were subtle differences that were not awful to become accustomed to like Fred being very much alive, or Blaise Zabini being their friend, but… his parents? Ginny's death, Iris Potter, Aries Malfoy, Remus and Sirius alive, Dumbledore killing Tom Riddle as an infant? These things were near impossible to come up with as a joke after a pint let alone to be reality.

"This probably is as bad a time as any to say this, but…" Malfoy hesitated, putting a hand through his blonde hair and gulping nervously, "I love you, and bloody hell am I sure you feel the furthest thing from that for me in reply, but that doesn't matter. I have no intention of breaking my vows, and Merlin I'm a sappy prick, but I'm here for you no matter what."

There was a large gap in time when the blonde spoke that Harry just stared at his husband in fright, but Draco sodding Malfoy didn't seem to care as he leaned forward from his end of the couch, near crawling, to place an affectionate kiss on Harry's forehead.

"Thanks," though Harry hardly meant it.

"Right," Malfoy replied, the look on his face proving to them both that Harry had only allowed him to do such a thing out of pity.

"We better get ready for Dinner, I can hear Kreacher in the kitchens."

Harry heard nothing as he followed Malfoy to their room, not worried over the lie that had gotten them both a change of scenery and out of the awkward conversation that had been ensuing before, though with the next question, Harry made it all the worse.

"How am I… with my parents, I mean?"

Startled, the wizard who was pulling their bedroom door open looked back and furrowed his brows.

"You love them a lot, but it's casual… like any adult with their parent… since you're both adults it's more fun and wizarding talk, you know?" He opened the door as he explained, and Harry couldn't hold back a shudder at the sight of their bed, large and covered in black sheets.

"Right," Harry said, however tentatively he went about his words, prying his green eyes from the scene of pure horror.

There had to be a guest bedroom he could stay in for a little while, right?

"Here, wear this, it's your mum's favorite shirt. She'll tell you that you didn't have to wear it, but you always reply that you'd do anything to see her smile."

It sounded like Malfoy was reciting his favorite poetry or line from Shakespeare as he told Harry the small banter that ensued with his mother, and it hit him again just how much this pitiful wizard loved him.

Taking the green shirt in his hands, Harry set it down on the bed, unfortunately enough, as he pulled his long-sleeve from his body and peeled it off. When he reached for the new shirt, something odd caught his eye.

On the lower part of his right arm, mostly the forearm, there was a colorful tattoo that had quite obviously never been there before. The thing was obviously quite muggle, as it had no magical properties to it when he'd taken his wand to it, and nothing about it moved. Harry pulled his arm closer and glanced over to Malfoy who's back was turned as he took off his own shirt, muscle leanly placed over him, a silver, silk shirt in his hands. He pulled it over his arms, straightening it out over his broad shoulders and then buttoned it. If he hadn't seen the ink on his arm, Harry would have continued to watch the admittedly attractive bloke continue to change, but he needed to know when he'd gotten such a thing on his skin. It was beautiful, per se, the colors perfect and the blending very well done- he couldn't imagine what it had cost him- but there was still a curiosity about it that needed to be discovered. Harry couldn't have this golden lion on his arm for no reason.

"M-" Harry couldn't dare to call the hurting man before him Malfoy, especially after seeing him react the last time he'd done it.

Harry could hardly bare Draco, and there was no way a pet-name would do, so he settled for the next best thing.

"Potter."

It felt wrong coming from his lips, as usually everyone else had called him Potter, or Harry Potter in some type of reverence he hadn't deserved.

Luckily enough, Malfoy turned, his toned stomach showing until he covered it with the rest of his buttons.

"Yeah?" He answered as if it were something he was called on a daily basis.

"When on Earth did I get this?" He showed him his arm, and the blond's eyes went wide until a smirk took over.

"Two thousand. Your mum almost killed you, I think."

Harry laughed, looking at the undeniably Gryffindor tattoo on his arm that was so happily resting there. It made him feel slightly better, having something like that reminding him of any good things that came from the war he'd gone through. His Gryffindor roots were something spectacularly significant to him, considering he'd chosen them and all.

"Were you there?" Harry asked, for some reason unknown to him.

"Yeah," Malfoy smiled fondly, "You took it well, though you were tearing up when you got home because it 'bloody well fucking hurt'."

They laughed together that time, but it didn't last long as Harry finally remembered why he'd seen it in the first place. Taking his shirt from the bed, he pulled the green fabric on and felt utterly Slytherin, cringing merely at the thought.

"Do you like it?" Malfoy asked him for little reason at all, but considering his eyes had been over Harry's body at least three times by then, he could see why the wizard had been compelled to ask.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"Dunno, just-" Malfoy was close then, his hand reaching for Harry's, but it fell short when he had to tip his head down slightly to look into Harry's eyes, "asking."

Harry swallowed hard, backing away from the warmth of another body, and nodded.

They stood awkwardly looking at one-another, their sides touching the bed that only Malfoy remembered sharing, and then something struck him as if a bludger had thrown him off his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"If you still have your tattoo, then…" Suddenly pacing furiously, Malfoy pursed his lips, shaking his head all the while, "But that's a stretch, even for the wizarding world."

"What is going on?" Harry asked him, but the frustrated wizard seemed not to notice.

"It can't be," he muttered again, his footsteps quickening from the war in his mind.

"Draco," Harry said finally, also grabbing his hand in hopes that one action or the other would calm him down. "What are you thinking?"

"It's an insane theory, even for the wizarding world," Malfoy warned him, not at all gently grasping Harry's hand back, "It's asinine."

"What is?" The boy-who-lived insisted.

"Well, our Hermione… before your little mishap… well, she was pregnant. And, seeing that you have your tattoo and all, even though you're not _my_ Harry, then," Malfoy implied, tilting his head with a lopsided smile.

"Then that means _my_ Hermione is pregnant too."

 _A/N_

 _Surprise!_

 _Thank you all for all your wonderful comments and support! I am very glad to see people enjoying!_


	4. First Comes Love

The first thing Hermione did when her feet were sunk into the carpet of Spinner's End was pull her wand out and vanish the ash on her clothes. The second action she took was nervously glancing about the home in fear of what Severus Snape would think upon seeing her. As far as she knew, he was a brilliant man, intelligent enough to fool the darkest wizard of the age and become a Master in Potions. There was no doubt that he would immediately tell something was wrong, that some odd transformation had undergone her, and she was no longer the woman he'd fallen in love with. The rather gorgeous ring on her finger assured Hermione that they _had_ loved one another.

"Hermione?"

The witch's nerves kicked in exactly then, her heart hammering so loudly she wouldn't be surprised if the wizard could already tell she was a foreign mind. Only then did she recall he was a powerful Legilimens, though not gifted like some witches and wizards were who could perform such a feat without their wands.

"Yes," and immediately with the break of her voice, Hermione knew she'd been caught.

"Are you alright? Do you feel faint?" Came his voice, much closer than before.

In the few moments of her silence, he'd finally arrived before her, all the imposing and imperious dungeon bat she recalled him to be.

Feeling still like the frightened student before him, Hermione shrunk, even if she attempted to stifle the reaction. Her ears must be burning from the blush that covered her whole face as her brown eyes took in his rather adoring look.

"No, I feel fine," she answered, not entirely sure why that was his first question out of any he could have asked her.

"Right," he responded, as equally unsure of her as she was of him in that moment. Though, even if he looked suspicious, he gently took her arm and placed a kiss to her lips, walking past her to the kitchen where he began to obviously boil a pot for tea.

"Sorry I was gone for so long, I got a bit caught up with Malfoy," It slipped before she could do anything about it, and for all the years of knowing what to say, that moment would have been wonderful to utilize such a talent.

"Malfoy?" He wondered aloud, coming back to look at her oddly, catching her chin and letting his black eyes meet her brown ones, "You're not children anymore, Hermione, besides he hasn't been a Malfoy for two years now."

"Right," she replied, letting out a sigh of relief.

Snape replied with nothing less than a hum, his eyes looking over her as if to find a hair out of place to incriminate her with. With little seeming to be actually off, Hermione skirted around him and took off her utmost layer, a sweater she'd had on in the cold cafe.

"Are you sure that you are feeling well? Your demeanor is shaky, at best."

Turning, Hermione smiled, however weakly, the action hard enough when it felt as though a ghost was taunting her, his looks of passion and love scaring the wits out of her. Her interaction with Bellatrix had almost been less scary than standing before a man who thought his _loving_ wife stood before him. Hermione could only imagine what poor Harry was going through.

"Brilliant, thank you for worrying, Severus."

"I always worry for you, witch," he said factually, stepping forward to embrace her, making the brunette all the more uncomfortable.

"Right," she said below her breath.

"As you know, we are going to the Potter's for dinner tonight, so I suggest you get ready," he reminded her, pulling back from their embrace. He then kissed the top of her head with a smile that looked dreadfully odd on the Potions Master.

Hermione couldn't seem to fathom that that smile had ever even existed in the other world, but she gave him one back and turned towards the stairs, praying with all her might that their bedroom was above. When she reached the top, luckily there were only two rooms from which she had to choose, and easily enough, Hermione pulled on the right door knob, a large bed with a moving portrait above it enough to indicate their own rooms. She cringed as she then realized she had to find her belongings, momentarily forgetting that she was a witch. Accio'ing them was her best option, a random dress flying into her hands when summoned. The soft material felt out of place there, its obvious expensive nature making her a bit uncomfortable with holding such finery.

Hermione felt even odder after putting it on, the wonderful way it fit to her body flattering, even if it did feel like she'd gained a bit of weight since she'd last checked.

Going back down the stairs made her realize how odd the formation of his home was. The stairs were so steep that she wondered if they were the sole reason why he was so bloody thi his living area had a doorway that lead right into the kitchen, two parallel rooms that were equal in length. On the opposing side was a door she dared not glance at, though he seemed not concerned when she came back down. Snape looked at her with greedy eyes, though he meant little of such want as he smiled _again_.

"You look wonderful, witch-" Hermione had determined by now that this was an affectionate term in his warped mind- "I am very glad you chose that dress."

She wasn't so sure of the pick as black eyes warmed her cheeks with their attention. Maybe Hermione should have simply been thanking Merlin that at least he wasn't touching her… yet.

"Does it ever strike you odd that we simply _have_ _dinner_ with the Minister for Magic?" Hermione wondered, looking at him as he leaned over a chair, almost reminding her of those old school days.

"James is who he always has been: I think little of it," Snaps explained, brows knit above black orbs that Hermione wanted to make a decent color so they wouldn't unnerve her so much.

There were a few other random things Hermione didn't truly care to notice that would have immediately indicated to her presence in the house were she to have looked.

By this time, Hermione had been thinking on something else all the more distracting than her marriage to one Severus Snape. Her brilliant mind was worrying over the fact that sometime that evening, she would meet Lily and James Potter. Fame hadn't ever struck her with anything more than curiosity since she was twelve and Lockhart turned out to be bonkers, but meeting two of the best wizards she'd ever heard of… those who had sacrificed their lives for their only son was… it was nerve-racking. Hermione adored Harry, and he was such an easy person to be around, she assured herself the Potters were just like him. Besides all of the fact that she'd never met them, she also had to act as though she had… like she'd known them since she was twelve.

The brunette must have looked as nervous as she felt, for her husband spoke the moment he saw her.

"Seriously, Hermione, I have never seen you look so grim before… maybe only when you discovered that someone you held dearly had passed," he assured her.

Their standing position in the kitchen didn't keep them there very long, as he pulled a chair and sat her in it. She felt as queasy as Snape thought she was.

"I don't feel too well," Hermione lied, looking at him as she clutched her fluttering stomach.

She regretted saying it immediately when he threatened, "We can phone the Potter's and tell them we shan't be in attendance. They'll understand, of course, since-"

"No, I'm sure it will pass," she insisted, already feeling better when not going had become an option.

Snape looked unsure. His black eyes were taking her in, sizing her up as he had when he had taught them Potions for six years.

"If you want to stay home, I implore you to tell me now."

"No, I will be just fine," Hermione told Snape rightfully, picking herself up and standing to meet his eyes… no matter how he stood over her.

"Then we should go soon, Kreacher shall complain if someone delays and the meal is cold."

Hermione genuinely giggled as Snape took her hand, pulling her close when their smiles were matched in length and happiness. She faltered, but the anticipation of seeing Harry again, and seeing the wonderful Potters made her keep the look.

"You look beautiful, by the way."

"Thank you," Hermione said, "So do you."

She was hardly lying, her mind admitting he was every bit the odd man he was as Potions Master, though with a tight-fitting set of robes, and a proud demeanor… there was more to Severus Snape.

Hermione felt guilty, for a mere few seconds, about judging him with any preconceptions she had from what she knew… this was a different man. She was also plagued with an odd guilt for simply… falling for her husband in mere moments. Her brilliant mind was being awfully strange, and she noticed it at the way she just _let_ things happen. Though, if they wanted to keep the secret of a damaged and beaten world quiet, then Hermione had to let everything go on as if nothing had changed. She had to love her husband, or at least, that what she would continue to tell herself.

Her rationale was slipping.

Though, she hardly seemed to care as Snape leaned forward and placed his lips on hers, kissing her gently, though passionately, before he pulled her to the fireplace she felt like she'd arrived in but only a few minutes prior.

The pair slid through the fire, startling the very far-away couple that was Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

"Hermione," Harry said quickly, not giving her time at all to say a thing to Malfoy before they were gone from the room and she was following his hurried steps up through Grimmauld Place as if being followed.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to tell you something, something very important."

"I was thinking too, actually, and-"

"Hermione, listen to me," Harry demanded, rather harshly for the boy-who-lived. Hermione wasn't used to hearing such a vivid tone from the man in front of her, grasping her shoulders for attention.

"Alright," she said, shrugging him off, "What is it?"

"Look at this, and then promise me you won't freak out?" He asked her cryptically, shoving up his right sleeve, showcasing a Gryffindor-esque tattoo that was extremely artistic, in her eye.

"So what?" Hermione squeaked, near at the brim of laughter, "It's a tattoo, Harry James, Potter, not the Dark Mark."

"That's not what I warned you about, Hermione. It's about you," Harry said, flustered as the tips of his ears turned pink with abashment.

"I changed in front of a mirror, I have nothing of the likes," she assured him.

"If our bodies changed with the alteration in time, only our minds worse off, then that means that things like _pregnancy_ would still be viable as well."

If steam really could come from the witch's ears, Harry was sure it would have been as he stared at the intimidatingly shocked expression of one Hermione Jean Granger.

"Harry, please tell me this is some type of joke," but the brilliant brunette knew far better than to think the Golden Boy would tell her such a thing without meaning it. That explained a few things, like Severus Snape's incessant worry of her faintness, and the fact that she looked a few pounds heavier than her last check.

"No-"

"I know," she interrupted, breathing out heavily. Out of all the things she learned that day, this topped even the Malfoy's and the Weasley's getting along.

"I just thought you should know.

"Don't look at me like that, Hermione," Harry continued, "I asked Malfoy-"

"You should really call him Draco," she insisted about Malfoy.

"Hermione, is that really what you're most concerned of right now? You're pregnant, and Merlin knows neither of us expected something like that," Harry yelled angrily, though he closed his eyes and apologized moments later.

"I'm the pregnant one, yet you're the moody one?" She teased, realizing her own situation little by little.

It had yet to hit Hermione Granger that she was Hermione Snape, soon-to-be mother of one, and friend to Draco Malfoy. She understood, of course the brightest witch of her age knew what was occurring, but some things were harder to absorb than others.

"Sorry, Hermione, I'm just anxious to meet my parents, I reckon."

"That's likely, you hardly know them."

"And I've been so jealous at Malfoy for knowing… knowing things that I don't, but should, know," Harry told Hermione quickly, shaking his awfully messy black hair in a shame she hadn't seen on his face in at least five years.

"I was thinking, earlier, before you told me your news," Hermione said slowly, attempting to cheer her friend up, "Do you think that with your dad in the position that he's in, we could convince him, per se, to let us visit Dumbledore in Azkaban?"

"Azkaban?" Harry parroted, "What are you on about, Azkaban? And visiting Dumbledore? That's a right way to get us killed…" Harry seemed to trail off when he realized pretty much exactly what Hermione had.

"He got ahold of the book, my book."

"Right, so if he's still sane like Mal-Draco heard, then maybe we could ask him why he did what he did."

"It depends on what my dad says," Harry said, though he looked thrilled at the mere prospect of getting let down, even.

Hermione couldn't blame the auror, he had lived without Lily and James for twenty-three years, she herself had already expressed her anticipation in meeting the couple.

"That sounds brilliant," she told her friend, looking at him as they both grinned like idiots.

"I'm still in a bit of shock, Malfoy didn't say much about how my parents and I interact except that we love one-another, a lot. I also have a sister," Harry said brightly, "Her name is Iris, and she plays Pro-Quidditch for the Harpies."

The excitement was obvious, and contagious as Hermione wondered, "Does she play with Ginny?"

It was as if Sirius had died right before Harry's green eyes again, his face falling and eyes turning glassy, "Ginny's dead."

"When?" Hermione demanded, feeling the same sting, though quite different, that Harry had felt earlier for the fiery red-head.

"Her fourth year," the boy-who-lived didn't even look like he could live through saying such a thing.

"Oh my god," Hermione said, pulling her best friend into a hug that allowed her to softly let out a few tears, "Merlin."

"Yeah…"

They stayed like that for a while, Harry gently patting Hermione's hair as he felt her hug him tight, their much-needed comfort from the past few hours happening right then.

"Hey," Hermione muttered, pushing herself back and wiping her eyes as she smiled at Harry's reddened ones, "You can't act like you're meeting your parents for the first time ever, you know."

"Aware," Harry replied nervously, looking at Hermione to make sure she had no tear stains left, abashedly wiping away under his own glasses.

"Do you think you can contain yourself? I only heard about the Mirror of Erised second hand, so I don't think it should be too hard," she told him with a misguided look.

"I'll be… alright. I saw them in the forest, you know, when I had the stone from that Snitch… I know what they look like… how they sound. Even though this time I'll be able to touch them."

Harry and Hermione laughed together fluently, like they had over the years at Hogwarts as best friends. They loved one-another like brother and sister, and everyone knew it.

"Do you think they miss us downstairs?"

"Not at all," Harry told her surely, "Malfoy is extremely uncomfortable."

"Really, I had no idea when you two were five feet away from one-another on the sofa," Hermione scolded him.

"Hey, he knows what we're going through, Snape doesn't know… you didn't tell him right?" He pestered quickly.

"No, I didn't. He's actually rather sweet, Severus," the witch informed her friend, smiling just thinking about the way he acted with her, "You should just give Draco a chance."

"He's Malfoy, Hermione, why on Merlin's bloody Earth would I do that? I'm hardly even gay."

"You are here… besides," she added forcefully, Harry shuddering in the wake of her words, their importance bearing down on him heavily, "We barged in here and nearly demanded him to tell us what happened. He told us, then we ruined his night by practically telling him that his husband, the man he loves, a man he is bonded to, doesn't remember a thing about any of it. And, I'd say he's handling it fabulously."

Harry looked guiltily at Hermione, though she could tell that his guilt only reached a few layers deep, not through as much of him as she would have preferred.

"He's great, you're right, but I just can't shoo that image out of my head in sixth year where…"

"Oh," she sighed, "Harry, is that really it? You feel guilty that you slashed his chest open in a timeline that he doesn't remember? Because that's a horrid excuse for not letting him into your heart, even just a little."

"And you've let Snape into yours in the past hour that you've been gone? That's all it takes a for a wizard to leap into your heart is an hour?" Harry demanded coldly, though Hermione remained not furious before him.

"We're stuck here, Harry. Or would you rather we changed time so that your parents really were dead again?" She bit in a severe honesty that both were frightened to face, it had been the worst row they'd had since school, maybe even fourth year.

Though, recoiling slightly to the things Hermione had spoken, all very true, Harry might have just thought it through a little.

"Are you ever going to be wrong? Just once?" He begged her pathetically, pulling them into another embrace where Hermione did a strange mix between crying and laughing.

"No offense, Mr. Potter, but I have no intention of ever being wrong, if I can help it," she added, laughter finishing off their rather emotional rollercoaster of a conversation.

They'd said a lot of things that they both needed to hear, yet Harry still felt dreadfully odd about Malfoy- Draco- and Hermione was nervous beyond all comprehension for a child she had not decided to have any time soon. Though, apparently she was more than ready in this life.

"Is there anything else you know about my…" waving her hand in front of her stomach, Harry grinned, and how fitting it seemed to see such a thing.

"You don't know the gender… and you picked myself for the Godfather, my mum was Snape's choice for Godmother."

Hermione smiled wistfully, simply thinking about how Lily Potter was to be her child's god-mum made the precarious situation that much more bearable. Though, something would have to be done about the whole not knowing the gender. There were spells for that sort of thing, far before any muggle technology could have determined, why hadn't she used one?

"Why, in Circe's name, wouldn't I want to know the gender?"

"Dunno," Harry replied, not as worried over it as Hermione seemed to be.

"Let's find out-"

"You just said, not minutes ago, that we should try and mold into this life, and you want to go against this other-you's wishes?" Though she could tell Harry wanted to know almost nearly as much as she did, she still retorted to his comment.

"I said we're stuck here, not that we have to be exactly like we were before. Now, come on, do the spell."

"You could bloody well do it," Harry argued, though he had his wand out and was muttering the words while Hermione's hands shook.

The charm was simple enough, a white glow on the wand for a girl, and a red glow for a boy.

There was a dim, white, pulse of light on the black haired man's wand before a knock came on the door and Harry muttered a quick finite, leaving them giddy, but trying very hard to fight it.

Draco's pearly white hair was seen first, his head a second later, "Your mum and dad are here, love."

It seemed that neither man was going to comment on the affection, so, in turn, neither was Hermione, even if giggles were piercing her lips, just waiting to escape her.

It only took a flight of stairs for her anticipation to grow tremendously, her stomach rolling over when she got to the living area to see James and Lily Potter, right before her eyes.

A/N

As I continue to write further chapters, I may or not be changing my rating to mature… it's nothing awful just yet, but in further-out chapters…. Debatable. I hope this is turning out okay so far, as well, I love seeing feedback and your thoughts on what will happen! Predictions are always fun to read as a writer.


	5. Dinner

Lily and James Potter were probably the most intimidating and loving people either Hermione or Harry had ever met. The duo were their very own oxymoron, but the intimidation came only from the fact that Hermione and Harry had never really met them… and Harry was their son.

He ran up to them, quite vividly, hugging them before they could even smile. It was surprising to the boy-who-lived that they just accepted the fact he was excited to see them, embracing him back until Harry himself decided to pull away.

"Are you alright, dear?" Lily asked him, smiling all the while. She placed a hand on his cheek, coming close to him in a motherly way Harry had only experienced from on Molly Weasley.

"Lily," James laughed, taking his wife's hand off of his twenty-three year-old son's face, "He is a married man, don't coddle the poor thing."

"Are you okay?" Lily asked again, ignoring her husband who just laughed and moved about to say hello to Severus first as Hermione watched on.

"Fine," Harry said with a grin, "Brilliant."

"And Draco," she said sweetly, Harry watching as his mother took a few steps to his right and smiled brightly, tucking a strand of long, blonde hair behind his ear, "The house looks wonderful, far better than what state Padfoot used to keep it in."

"I have ample time for that when Harry is trying to get himself killed," the man drawled, but Malfoy seemed slightly uncomfortable as Harry stared on, though his mum didn't seem to notice.

"Mum," Harry talked excitedly, gaining much needed attention from her, tossing a mixture of emotions at Malfoy in a single look, "How's dad doing at the ministry?"

Lily laughed, a beautiful sound that Harry cursed Voldemort for taking away from him, before replying, "You're there more than I am, darling, but he's been keeping something from you, you'll know soon enough."

The beautiful vision that was Lily Potter winked with a green eye just like Harry's and went past him to join her husband who was animatedly speaking with Hermione about a few laws he was attempting to get passed.

"Business already?" The redhead wondered, bringing Hermione into a hug before she could even say hello to Mrs. Potter, "Shame on you, Prongs."

James' eyes went dark at the name his wife called him but Harry grinned and merely joined the small party discussing things about Merlin-knows as Malfoy came up behind him and placed his hand daringly on his shoulder. It was a very high place on Harry's body, but the space above his head would have been much preferred. The words Hermione had yelled at him stuck in his mind for a few moments, but they didn't make him any more comfortable. His parents, and Snape, would expect to see this, so as long as Harry concentrated on his mum and dad, then there wouldn't be any problems with Mal- Draco touching him.

"Son!" Harry suddenly stared wide-eyed at his dad, looking a slight bit obscured.

"Yes?" He replied shakily, causing Mr. Potter to again, let out out a hearty chuckle that at one point in time, Harry would never have expected to come from him. Maybe it came with age?

"Where's Lucius?"

"I was wondering the same, Draco," Snape added, a foreign smile on his lips as well as he took Hermione's waist.

There was a very small part of Harry that dreadfully wished to tackle the Potions Master to the ground, whether he was a war hero or not.

"He's somewhere," Draco answered for them both, "Presumably checking his hair before he sees you, Lily."

"I want to catch the prat before he kisses my wife again."

Hermione and Harry were baffled into incredulous expressions when James spoke, though Lily hitting the man with her hand swiftly made them cease their gaping at once.

"It was one time," she protested, "and we were twelve!"

Hermione could feel her best friend deflate from where she was, their breaths steadying out with each turn of the conversation, never quite sure what James was going to say next.

The woosh of the fireplace in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place alerted them all to Lucius Malfoy's arrival, however, spectacular as usual. There wasn't a single grain of ash on him as he smiled and directed himself right ot Lily, either. Her hand was at his lips, then they were all laughing as James huffed rather childishly.

"Severus," Lucius greeted warmly, "And Madame Snape," he bowed to Hermione, whose blush Harry felt on his own cheeks, and though it hurt his head, Malfoy Senior greeted him as well.

"Has Kreacher finished dinner?"

Malfoy looked at Harry, nudging his head towards the kitchen, though the boy-who-lived was certainly not known as the boy-who-could-understand-social-cues.

The young blonde rolled his eyes and leaned over, placing a kiss to Harry's cheek, though it wasn't for any purpose other than whispering, "You call Kreacher, it's tradition."

Harry laughed, hoping to pass it off as something cute Malfoy had said, then called Kreacher out.

"Masters Potter," Kreacher bowed to a close pair of husbands, then turned to the guests and said, "Honored guests, dinner is served and ready for your liking."

He disappeared as quickly as he came.

"I couldn't say it enough how wonderful your elf is, Harry," Lucius spoke, allowing the Snape's and elder Potter couple to go in first, speaking lowly to Harry, though Malfoy, who was close, snorted.

"You say that every time you see Kreacher, Father."

"I do, don't I?" He asked airily, heading through the doors and the hall, towards the kitchen where a wonderful feast was awaiting.

Harry was scarcely reminded of Xenophilius Lovegood.

They were all seated, and soon immersed into conversation with one-another that Harry learned to be quick about. Hermione did very well on her own, talking about everything from a career she'd luckily had in the Ministry before this time, to the infant growing in her stomach. The witch lied and told them she still didn't want to know the gender after several wands came forth. Harry Potter was just lucky to have Draco Malfoy next to him, a Malfoy who picked up any of the questions he couldn't feasibly lie about or know off-hand.

The question that startled him most was Lily asking her adoring son when in Merlin's name she was going to get grandchildren from the two of them.

Draco said adopting was a lot harder than it used to be.

Half-way through dessert, Harry found his position at the head of the table with Malfoy on his left and his dad on the right to his advantage. Especially when Hermione tossed him a look from two seats down next to Lily.

"I've been looking through a couple odd cases lately," Harry already hated himself as Malfoy looked on oddly, and his innocent father smiled graciously.

"Nothing about Pettigrew, I hope. Haven't heard from him in a while, and I don't think the Ministry cares for another scare," he said factually, though there was a clip in his voice that drew a crowd of the other guests.

"No," the younger version of James Potter replied, curious about that on several levels, "Just some odd things that I think I know who to go and ask about, but I'll need a bit of leniency."

"Anything," the elder replied immediately, sipping at his mead while Lily caught Hermione in pregnancy advice, and Severus listened, though he was trying not to as Lucius, sitting next to his son, rolled on about something Harry couldn't hear.

"Well, Hermione and I were talking today at lunch about it, as well, and she suggested this, really," even swept into a conversation, Hermione still tossed him a glare, "We want to see Albus Dumbledore in Azkaban."

The odd request seemed to very much stump the Minister of Magic as he ceased putting a treacle tart up to his mouth, looking rather robbed of it.

"I hate sending field Aurors to the prison, Harry, no matter my son or not. The transfer wizards do that nasty job, and taking Hermione with you? Besides," James wondered, as he looked over at Lily in admiration, "What kind of case is this that you need Albus Dumbledore for?"

"Complicated, and at one time he was the most brilliant wizard to be walking the earth."

"He's probably half-bonkers by now, Harry. Just because you can cast a patronus charm, doesn't mean you have to go to Azkaban to prove it."

There was a joke there, but it was lost on Harry. He had been able to do that charm since he was in his third year.

"I really need this oppurtunity, dad," Harry pushed.

Malfoy kicked him under the table and furrowed his blonde eyebrows, when Harry took green eyes off of his father.

"I'll see about getting you a portkey, if I let Hermione floo so far away, I think your mother would murder me," he said lowly, indicating that there were floos at Azkaban, which didn't really make Harry feel any better about going there.

Hermione said it had to be done, and she hadn't been wrong yet.

If it had been Dumbledore to get the book, which knowing what they did about him killing the child and hiding the murder for so long, then he and Hermione had need to speak with the old buzzard. Seriously, how old was he? Harry doubted even his father, Minister for Magic, knew.

That was still crazy for Harry to even think.

"Thank you," he realized he hadn't said his thanks a bit too late, as James was then also in on the pregnancy advice, not hearing Harry at all. Though his advice consisted mostly of: "Don't you dare wake Severus up in the middle of the night for chips, they're bloody hard to find when everything is closed."

Lily slapped him again.

The night went by splendidly, in Harry's opinion, and even he started to not mind Malfoy… er, Draco after a while. Even the nice couple things he did to prove to their parents they weren't having a row made Harry unexpectedly warm.

Hermione looked regal next to Severus who doted on her more than Viktor Krum had at the Yule Ball their fourth year. According to Draco, it had always been like that, and even in classes, Hermione had been his favorite… which startled many of the Slytherins from their robes because Snape hadn't ever favored a Gryffindor before.

Lucius was overly friendly to Lily, which was supposed to be normal, but that night Harry felt very overprotective of his mum. James and Lily were the last to say goodbye, even if Harry had wanted to desperately have a quick chat with Hermione before she'd gone and floo'ed off with Severus' hand clutched tightly in her own. However, that didn't deter the boy-who-lived from squeezing the daylights from them both for as long as they felt comfortable with, kissing his mum and hugging his dad twice before they finally apparated. The wards shivered at the now lack of people, but the clamor in the kitchen from Kreacher made the place still feel very full.

The warmth coming from Malfoy's hand on his lower back didn't help the stuffy feeling though.

"Malfoy-" Harry turned to face him, and immediately they were far too close for any sort of comfort on Harry's part.

Though, that wasn't what had interrupted Harry as he spoke, it was the indicated listener.

"Potter," he sighed, looking off, "It's Potter or Draco, just pick one, Harry."

Were there tears in his gray eyes? Either way, the black haired man hated to see his husband like that, whether he felt the bond they shared or not.

"Bollocks, that won't be easy to get used to-"

"I'm sure," Draco said reassuringly, "Really, I get it."

When he turned around, looking all the broken man he had sixth year, not in control of a single thing, Harry felt those flood gates of guilt wash over him. Malfoy had done a lot for him that night, God, all the answers he'd given proved that he knew Harry better than he knew himself.

"Hey," he said lightly, closing his eyes to gain as much Gryffindor bravery as possible to reach out and grab Malfoy's hand, "Draco?"

Vitality shot through Malfoy like a curse as gray met green.

"Yeah?" Though it was obvious he tried to keep the excitement at bay, the blonde was letting a lot of it slip as he clutched Harry's hand like a lifeline.

The younger wizard hadn't a clue as to what he was doing as he pulled the man close enough where their bodies nearly touched.

"Thank you," more Gryffindor courage came forth from Harry with each word, "For everything. For accepting what happened without question, for the crazy answers you and I came up with, for the real ones you provided… I would have drowned like a fish without gills if you hadn't been next to me tonight."

While it all sounded brave, Harry knew that he'd said a lot of brave rubbish over the years and never really meant much of it. So, to back his words of gratitude, he steeled every last bit of anything he had in him and kissed Malfoy straight on the mouth.

The unwelcomed sense of pure bliss that ran down his spine as Draco kissed back was something that he could have lived without feeling. There was only one problem, Harry had felt it, and now his hands were lost on Malfoy's sides, the other wizard has his in Harry's already untidy hair.

The rumbling in Draco's chest almost made Harry jolt back if he hadn't realize that Malfoy was suppressing it as much as possible so as to not cause the very action he'd almost committed.

It was very on-edge as they teased one-another with a few more kisses, neither spouse wanting to put a single cell out of place in fear the other would revolt, though it was definitely more Malfoy who was worried about such a fright. He wanted nothing more than to throw his husband against the couch and shag him until Kreacher yelled at them to get into bed. Merlin-forbid it if the living area with the floo open up to visitors was even a string out of place.

Just when Malfoy decided they'd been dancing around it a bit too long, wanting to deepen the interaction- to a light snog- that had probably been meant to stop at a chaste kiss, Harry pulled away in protest.

"Stop."

There really was nothing to stop at that point.

"Sorry, you're just bloody good at it, always have been," Malfoy tried to soften the tense atmosphere, but it only seemed to make it worse when his husband glared.

"Listen, I'm gonna take a guest bedroom, Merlin knows this place has a few, and maybe in a few days-"

"Forget it," Malfoy scoffed, looking all the more downtrodden than when he was called Malfoy earlier, "It was your house, I'll take a guest."

"I'm the one being the prick about all this, so either we both stay in guests, or you sleep in our room," Harry managed not to choke on the last part of his declaration.

Looking teary-eyed, Malfoy fled the room and left Harry alone, feeling like more of a jerk than he had when he'd been getting yelled at by Hermione.

It looked like tonight was going to be a long night.

For Hermione and Severus, when they returned home, their night had simply begun, feeling rather short as they looked at the hands on a grandfather clock in their room, far too close to ten in the evening for their tastes.

Hermione felt like a giddy schoolgirl again, however. She was smartly matching her husband's wit with everything in her, and her heart was fastly beating with each kiss he gave, lasting longer and longer than the first. He tasted of wine, and after only a few years of being able to drink, she was deeply saddened that the opportunity was off limits for a bit.

He was an exciting man, Severus Snape, his intellect matched no one she had known in her years at Hogwarts, except what little she'd really known of Dumbledore, and Severus was charming. It was obvious he wasn't the man at her Hogwarts, but he was like this now, and she was positively no one to dare complain when the attention was her very own.

Of course it was foolish, Hermione knew that. She was already attached to the small being forming in her stomach, but how couldn't one be after talking to Lily Potter about such a darling topic? Severus was just as easily amiable, and Hermione found something about him more than she had ever had from any of her suitors before. Besides, Severus Snape wasn't her suitor, he was her husband.

Lily and Severus were very friendly, but not the way Lily and Lucius were friendly, with James peering at the man in some type of jealousy and threat, though it was all for fun, Hermione was assured.

Her thoughts only briefly glossed over how Harry was doing as she looked at intense, black eyes.

"You look so different tonight," Severus spoke through the silence.

He hadn't had too much wine, but she wasn't too sure any longer as her heart hammered quickly in sobered fear.

"Maybe I'm finally glowing," she answered fearfully.

He chuckled a humorous and healthy sound before shaking his head, pulling her close on their bed which she'd let him carry her to.

"No," he mused, voice as low as the lighting in the room, his lithe fingers pushing hair behind her ears.

Hermione should have been caught off of her guard when he leaned forward and kissed her so softly that she hardly realized he was there. He let her fall backwards as he placed both hands on her side, however, as pressure increased from the kiss. They were snogging quicker than she thought she would have let him go on, but she also stopped it sooner than she would have liked.

"Sev," she shortened his name, her breath failing her shortly, "The baby."

It was hardly an excuse, she reminded herself, the real reason was that she hadn't ever done what his very polite snogging had insinuated. His protective form over hers didn't bode well either, and it was best she just avoided that activity for a while.

Of course… there was a child inside of her, so she'd obviously gone to bed with her husband, but she couldn't remember that… and it wasn't even really her, even though it was. Hermione decided not to confuse herself while her husband was hovering over her with dark, attractive eyes.

"Right," he adjusted himself lying next to her, rolling her a bit to kiss her gently, far more chastely that time.

Snape no longer looked as inebriated as he had before.

"Dinner was wonderful, wasn't it?" She asked him suddenly, unable to hold it in, "Sometimes I feel like it's the first time I have ever had dinner with the Potter's when I go there."

He gave her an odd look, raising a black eyebrow at her, but she went on anyways.

"I love them all."

"Of course you do, witch," he pecked her nose, "Did you notice anything odd, however?"

"No," Hermione told him surely, though she wanted to bloody well scream that every single person at that table shouldn't be there besides herself and Harry, but she figured it a bit heavy for the light-hearted chatter they had going.

"Did Harry mention a row he was having with Draco? The blonde was particularly silent while I was with him; you two chittering away."

"No, Harry didn't mention a thing," she assured Severus, smiling, "He wanted to ask me about going with him for a case, to visit Albus Dumbledore."

Shocked, Severus almost fell off the rather large bed they shared, "That crazy, old Wizard? What's he got to do with anything?"

"I don't quite know," she lied, "But I shall find out."

"Be careful, and make sure you think of me when casting your patronus at Azkaban, though it better not be necessary," he half-warned, half-joked, placing another kiss on her lips.

"Now," he said, "Sleep, witch, you and our little one need it. From what I heard of your conversation with Lily, you won't get much rest after you have him or her."

"Neither will you!" She insisted, but Hermione wasn't too sure about being ordered about to a bed she was already on, yet being rather heavy-lidded impaired her care.

"Goodnight, then," she said when they'd settled under the covers, pajamas tightly wrapped about them both.

"Goodnight, my love," he said, pulling her close, allowing Hermione the comfort of another in her bed, while only a scattered, half-thought went out to Harry in his lonely guest-room bed before those heavy lids closed brown-eyes for the rest of the night.

A/N

Hi all! I hope that you are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it... though as I was writing chapter six, I kinda realized I may have to alter my rating in the future. Oh Well! Enjoy!


	6. A Quick Visit

A/N

I really hadn't expected it to take me this long to update, but I'm finally getting through a serious case of writers black where I was writing _at most_ a sentence a day. So I apologize for the delay, and thank you for all the lovely comments, I promise that I will be filling you guys in on some briefly mentioned characters later in the story(Aries Malfoy and Iris Potter). I also promise to keep you on your toes about who stole Harry's book ;). We will also be seeing more of Severus and Hermione soon (ish)! I hope you enjoy!

Harry looked like he had been through hell when Hermione had gotten ready after receiving his owl and took the floo to Grimmauld Place. His eyes were baggy, and it looked like someone had poured water on his hair and left it to dry in a tornado. Hermione felt sort of bad for the wizard, feeling rather comfortable herself with her awakening. Harry must have rolled off several wrong sides of the bed before getting up off yet another wretched side.

"You look awful," Hermione stated, "What happened?"

" _Draco_ happened," he muttered lowly, looking about the house as if it would tell on his blame, "We got into a row last night."

"What did you do?" She shrieked, feeling, and quite _looking_ , offended Harry hadn't taken her advice.

"Quiet, will you?" The black haired man huffed, "Why assume it was my doing, anyways?"

"Harry," she condescended, foot tapping lowly.

"Fine, I kissed him, then things got a bit uncomfortable for me, so I stopped it; made a right idiot out of myself."

"I'm sure you did," Hermione spoke promptly, "You can't go leading him on like that, and you can't throw yourself into the deep end and expect to suddenly love him."

"It obviously worked for you," Harry grumbled, pulling on his wrinkled robes, which were unfortunately the neatest part about his get-up.

"Come on, your owl said nine at the ministry, so we'd better go."

Harry agreed, his whole body aching from the mattress he'd been exiled to by his own selfishness the night before. Not only did he barely sleep, he had forgotten his wand in his shared loo with Malfoy and didn't dare cross the whole room just to get it. So, without a single charm to cast, Harry was miserable through the night. That morning, he tip-toed past Malfoy, who looked sinfully angelic asleep, and nicked his wand, forcing Kreacher to make him a cup of the strongest tea they had, owling Hermione a few minutes later with details from the owl his father had sent him.

Even the wonderful and joyous fact of having his parents back didn't make his day much brighter, seeing as he wasn't going to be seeing them until Merlin-knows-when because he didn't know a bloody thing about where he was.

"My father specified that our portkey was ready when we were in my office, so we might as well just get it over with."

Little did Harry know that another Auror would be accompanying them, but he didn't really care all that much as the sickening feel of the port-key whipped them off towards the most fortified Wizarding prison there was.

Azkaban was worse than Hermione imagined it, and far less dark than Harry perceived. It was odd how they were brought right to Dumbledore, almost with little effort on the Warden's part as he left them to their devices. Harry turned to the stoic auror who had joined them and asked for a few steps of space, so he backed against the opposing wall and slouched.

Looking into the cell was a lot like looking into a caged animal's enclosure at the bad zoos that didn't know how to handle their animals. It was barbaric. The only difference was that no animals in zoos had long beards of silvery hair that never seemed to want to fall out, and never had Harry seen animals with blue eyes sparkling as Albus Dumbledore's did.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I meet you at last… though I suppose by now you've both gone and married," blue eyes still glittered dangerously at the male and female duo.

"Sir," Harry couldn't help but address, feeling that if they didn't get right to it, neither Harry nor Hermione would have the heart to ask later, "We were wondering if you were the one who ended up with a book that I wrote… in a different time."

"Did you know lemon drops are out of season?" Dumbledore suddenly spoke in desperate sadness, "What an awful thing to only grow in one place."

"Sir?" Hermione asked quizzically, though she felt the cold chill just as Harry did, and figured maybe the dementor, wanting nothing to do with the trio of visiting witch and wizards, had affected Dumbledore on his way past.

"It's a terrible tragedy, I wonder if when the lemon hits the ground before harvesting, they break into the drops like magic?" He added, almost happily, but then he smiled, not a single tooth showing as he looked much like the Professor Harry and Hermione had known once again.

"Professor?" Harry wondered if maybe he'd taken a good stab at their names when they'd showed up, or Azkaban got the _Daily Prophet_?

"I did receive your book, Mr. Potter, a good read, though truly terrifying. I would have detested to pass on that early when I intended to see out a few more birthdays…"

"And where is the book now, Professor?" Hermione asked him coming close to the bars to see the straight-backed wizard look curiously at her.

"Your occlumency is poor, Miss Granger, or is it Madame Snape? You took a year of lessons, yet you fail to keep up your shields. Nevertheless since you are here before me, I assume neither of you remember your twenty-three years in this Voldemort-free time?"

Both Hermione and Harry shook their heads furiously.

"Unfortunately, there is little _I_ can do to help that. Though, I hear Minerva does love a visit from her previous pupils."

"Should we go and see her then? Does she have my draft?" Harry asked prudently, earning a surprised look from Hermione.

"Children are horrible things," Albus prattled on, "I never really liked the lot, all too young to learn anything, yet that is the only time they _can_ learn anything. You can't teach an old broom new speeds," he spoke obliviously, winking all the same.

Harry and Hermione decided it would be best if they were gone quicker than they came with him rambling on in such a fashion, so it wasn't long before Harry was pacing his office, Hermione slouched in a chair, feet hung off the arm.

"He's not crazy… after years in Azkaban, and he's been fooling the dementors the whole time!" Hermione told Harry.

Though, the black haired man was paying little attention as he swept his hair back. The large gasp his companion emitted was certainly enough to grab such attention, however.

"Harry Potter! Your scar is gone! I can't _believe_ I didn't think to check," she regaled in horror, sounding quite scandalized.

All Harry could think of was the way Dobby had beat himself over the head with his desk lamp when he'd said too much of what he knew.

"I can't believe I didn't think to look."

Harry shrugged. He hadn't dared to bother with his hair in the last few days, even when they were in the real world where he wasn't hitched to Draco bloody Malfoy.

"It's not like it was life or death," Harry tried to soothe, but she stood and stopped his pacing regardless.

"We've got to see McGonagall _today_ , Harry."

"Why? Didn't you hear what my dad said last night? About Pettigrew. He acted like they'd never been friends, when I thought…"

There were no words exchanged.

Harry had been dutifully walking a hole into his Ministry office for the single reason that he wasn't sure whether to try and pry for information on Wormtail, or if he should listen to his best friend and go see McGonagall, just to retrieve a stupid book he'd written that had gotten him nothing but Malfoy as his husband… _and_ his parents back.

Harry was very at war with himself in that moment.

"Oh, come on," she drawled, sounding much like she did when she was merely elven, "We are going to see Professor McGonagall."

"Right," Harry said, almost nauseous as he felt himself land in Hogsmeade after a horrible time with sudden side-along apparition.

"Okay, it _is_ very late in the summer, but there won't be term quite yet, though McGonagall lives in Hogwarts, so it shouldn't be too much trouble."

"Did you learn all this from your husband last night?" Harry asked, sounding quite the bit jealous of how well Hermione was deciding to get along with Severus Snape.

"No, but McGonagall has always lived in Hogwarts, and if she's Headmistress, then what could there be to keep her away?"

Harry was hard-pressed to contradict the brightest witch of her age.

With a bit of a long walk on their way, Harry and Hermione looked fondly over the grounds in a way that would have been much different were they what they remembered. They recalled ruins, parts of the grand castle looking quite new and fixed compared to their standing pieces with dust still precariously clinging to its home.

"No matter how much I acclimate myself to this world, Harry, I don't think I'll ever get used to it being so _different_."

"Yeah," Harry replied unsurely his breathing as unconcentrated as Hermione's eyes while they went through the halls of an empty Hogwarts.

Hopefully the sound of Peeves just down a stray hall was only in their imagination.

Of course, when they came to the gargoyle guarding the Headmistress's office, they were quite concerned at just how they were to see McGonagall when she was beyond the unmoving stone.

"We're guests to see Minerva McGonagall," Harry tried, causing Hermione to stifle a rather loud laugh. "Shut it," he hissed.

Of course, Hermione's louder chuckles only drew them attention.

As luck would have it, the right attention came to them in the form of the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"Mister Potter?" She asked first until Hermione turned around, her laughter gone, "And Madame Snape!"

Minerva seemed dreadfully thrilled to see them until they all finished greetings, and she suddenly realized something.

"You're here on account of what Albus told me years ago, aren't you? It's that time already?" She wondered softly, almost nostalgically.

Hermione and Harry nodded.

"It's an odd thing, that book, you cited that I started my career as Headmistress much later in teaching than I actually have, but I suppose that's what happens when one changes time…" The elder witch sighed heavily, mumbling the password to her office as she began to ascend the stairs. Looking back quizzically, she asked: "Aren't you going to join me?"

Her two prior students followed, sharing glances all the while.

"We didn't do it on purpose, Professor."

"Mhm," she dismissed Harry suddenly, "I wouldn't blame you, Potter, you didn't know what would happen after writing it."

His green eyes locked onto brown ones as they finally sat before the elder witch, her face trained and looking quite the bit younger than she had when everything was normal.

"Do you want it?"

"No," Harry spoke, as opposed to Hermione's "Yes!"

A single eyebrow, elegant and ever demanding, searched for an answer.

"If you both could agree on a similar answer, that would be beneficial," Minerva informed them kindly.

"We'll take it, Professor, though I'm surprised Dumbledore didn't destroy it."

"He destroyed enough," McGonagall determined over her glasses, "I am not saying I would have preferred your parents dead, Harry- I adore the Potter's more than I care to mention- nor do I wish your husband deceased, Madame Snape- he is more valuable to my staff than many- but killing a child!" It was as if someone had personally accosted her. "He who would have become an unnameable enemy is no light matter, I just wish he…"

"Would have been more careful?" Hermione offered. "Harry had to kill him in our life, you read what he went through! That man would have killed his parents, killed your students! _Gryffindors_!"

Harry had honestly never seen Hermione in such a state, even when they were chasing after an overbearing Voldemort who thought he was going to win the Second Wizarding War.

McGonagall looked like she was on the verge of a retort, but she glanced over to the young witch who had spoken so vividly and seemed to settle on something.

"You're quite right, but still, Albus has made himself a murderer, and there is nothing we can do to change that. This cannot get out, Mr. Potter," McGonagall suddenly had the copy of Harry's book in her hands, "It cannot be seen, and those are orders from Dumbledore."

Nodding in complete understanding, Harry took the words and sentences, holding the heavy recollection on his lap.

"What would be the harm of telling the community, Professor?" Hermione wondered, looking contemplative.

"Too many risks, far too many changes have occurred for things to ever be the same, or for people to understand. What would wizards and witches say if they learned that Dumbledore had lead a war, no less an organization against the Ministry of which your father runs, Harry. What would those who should be dead say of their living?"

It seemed that she very much wanted to induce upon them the meaning of her words with their names, since it wasn't getting through to them any other way.

"Albus warned me you two would be different, but I didn't expect this, if I am to be honest with the lot of you."

"Well, Professor, we don't really remember what has taken place here, where everyone else remembers it."

Eyes widening fearfully, her first glance was towards Harry who looked down-trodden and quite tired.

"You must have been horrified," she told him factually.

"Oh, I don't think that quite captures just how I felt when I found out that I was married to my very own childhood enemy. Hermione, she's perfectly content-"

"Harry Potter!" The aforementioned witch gasped.

"It's _true_! I don't think I've seen you this happy with a bloke since… ever."

Madame Snape looked rather ready to jump up from her seat and hex her friend right out of his chair.

"I must say, I was surprised to read many of the things in this tale of yours, Mr. Potter, for I hadn't read it until just recently, knowing what Albus told me of it."

"Do you know how he came by it?"

"I do," Minerva said carefully, "Professor Dumbledore was merely a professor at the time, and he said that one evening in his office, a student, rather bright in many of his subjects, consistently reading and doing a dreadful amount of research, brought to him a book that he insisted did not belong in the library. He asked why it had not been brought to Madame Castier, the librarian at the time, and he told him because of the date of its publishing. We have many oddities in the library of Hogwarts, my cubs, but we do not have books from the future.

"Regardless, Dumbledore thanked the child, and he went on his way, never to be seen again. He was the only one who remembered he even existed, which is now irrelevant."

Hermione leaned rather quickly over to Harry and whispered, "Did you throw any deadly spells at the figure?"

Shaking his head, eyes still locked with Minerva's blue ones, Harry felt a little unsettled.

"That doesn't help solve any questions, though, Professor."

"It might not, Mr. Potter, but you have a family who quite adores you…. That most of the Wizarding Britain adores, I would suggest you not ask questions."

Sighing heavily, Harry took the advice and clamped his lips shut.

"Thank you very much, Professor, this has been helpful, no matter what Harry says," Hermione thanked her and shook the witch's hand, urging her best friend to get up so they could return to the Ministry.

It was cold in Harry's office, and while neither seemed to realize it, James Potter did when he popped into the small space, frowning.

"Why is it so cold in here, Harry?"

"Hm?" The younger Potter looked up, startled himself at seeing his father, then calmed again, looking at Hermione with knit eyebrows, "It's cold?"

"Yes," James said rather dumbly, not sure anymore as he looked at Hermione for help, but she looked just as befuddled as his son.

"Well, then, I just wanted to see how your visit with Dumbledore went," he said, tottering on his heals.

"It went well," Hermione told him, "But Harry didn't find anything on the cases he was referencing."

"Unfortunate, though I am glad you weren't there too long. Where did you go after I had my auror returned to me?"

It seemed that James Potter wasn't as easy to slip under the radar by as Kingsley was. Then again, Kingsley probably knew all the things Harry did, he just didn't really care all that much.

"To see Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore said something about how she may be of help," Harry told his father, leaning casually against his desk after coming out from behind it. Hermione was still contorted in her chair to look respectfully at the Minister of Magic.

"And was she? Or did you really follow the ramblings of a crazy man, Harry. I mean, I at least thought Hermione would have kept you out of trouble, not let you drag her through it." He seemed amused at his own assumption.

"She helped us a lot, even let us take a book from Hogwarts."

"Madame Pince let that happen?" James asked genuinely stunned.

"Yes," his son and Hermione replied unanimously.

They could tell they'd unsettled the wizard, but he didn't take it too heavily.

"You two are acting very odd, and I had my curiosities, but they all include the two of you having an affair. A shame you've fancied blokes, Harry, since your first Quidditch match when you were two, isn't it?" He asked, obviously attempting to warm the air about them with humor, though it hardly worked as he earned little more than a chuckle.

"What's it that your mother says, Harry? Tough… crickets?"

"Crowd," Hermione filled in, smiling wearily.

"Yeah, tough crowd. Merlin, you'd think that we were at a burial."

That earned the wizard his laughs which also earned Harry and Hermione their peace as he left them to discuss their debacle.

"I love him."

"I know you do, Harry, that's wonderful," she said, placing a hand on his leg and standing, bringing him into a hug. "Everything is different, so different, and you don't have to pretend seeing them doesn't bother you in front of me. I can't imagine how you feel."

"Don't worry, Hermione, I think that I can get plenty used to them being around."

She grinned, grabbing her bag and smiling at her friend.

"Now, do some real work before your father fires you, I'm sure that would be brilliant, wouldn't it?"

"Just brilliant."

"Goodbye, Harry, owl Severus and I if you need anything."

"I'll owl _you_ ," he affirmed, winking in her direction as he stood from the desk and sat back behind it.

"You incorrigible man."

They told one-another their farewells, and for a few moments in his office, Harry felt the serene feeling of normalcy. It didn't matter that this office wasn't the same as his one from the other period of his life, but what did matter was that he was there alone, just Auror Harry Potter who wasn't married to his enemy, and who had defeated Voldemort five years- and some knuts- ago.

Of course, peace never lasted long, not even in a world where it seemed that many things were perfect.

"Hey," Draco Malfoy said sulkily, "How was your morning with Dumbledore? Did you get your answers?"

With a heavy sigh, Harry accepted a few more things that came with that world… it just so happened to be that being married to Malfoy wasn't one of them just yet.


	7. The Things We Do

Draco Malfoy had come by his husband's office in the department of Aurors for no more than the fact that by habit, he and Harry had always enjoyed lunch with one-another. It usually happened since Malfoy did little about the house because he had no need with Kreacher, nor did he work or hold an occupation like most witches and wizards. Harry never minded, it seemed, as Draco always insisted that he pay for most of their meals or shopping. Then again… that had been _his_ Harry, not this confused, befuddled, and broken man that was wearing his husband's skin.

There was obvious discontent in Draco's mind for what had happened exactly to make his beloved so very different. It had been a rough few hours, honestly, and sleeping in bed alone hadn't helped a thing, especially feeling the other side so cold and devoid of the man he craved.

He felt no less than miserable, to say the least. The bloody wanker he is, Draco was truly upset at Harry for multiple things; regardless of the fault not truly being his husband's. His turmoil between loving the man and hating him, wanting to give him space, but not knowing _how much_ , and most of all, the blonde hated the black-haired man because he didn't seem to want to even try to get to know him, or love him back. There was the preconceived notion Harry held that made Draco sure he might not ever return the feeling that was currently ripping himself apart.

Draco _couldn't_ blame Harry, of course, he didn't have the heart to do that to the man he loved, yet… where _was_ the blame to be given?

Maybe it didn't matter, and maybe they could get on one day and form a relationship so like the one they'd shared before. Maybe? Regardless, Draco went to Harry's office to eat lunch with him, and to be nosy.

He had always known exactly what went on in Harry's life for… _years_ , take away the last horrific day, and suddenly knowing… _nothing_ startled the wizard with everything in him. Beguiled by the events, he'd had little time to think on the fact that this would also drive a wedge between them for an awful long time. Harry was becoming seriously secretive, Draco knew, and it would be hard to reach this man who held his heart. It would be significantly difficult to even get him to touch him, or even look him in the eye if not even sleeping in the same room the night prior was any indication.

Besides any of his thoughts, he'd gone to eat lunch with Harry anyways because even if his husband was going to give up, there would be no way in Merlin's name that he would give up on him.

"Hey, how was your morning with Dumbledore? Did you get your answers?"

The extreme and utter sadness in his voice must have shown when Harry looked up in pity.

"A few… I also got this back when I went to see Professor McGonagall." Harry held up a decent sized book which read clearly, _Seven Years_.

"How is the Professor?" Draco wondered, not entirely sure he should broach the subject of exactly why there were two parallel universes now.

"She seems fine," his husband replied, shoving the book further forward in the air as if willing Draco to take the blasted thing.

"Do you want me to read that?" He asked pathetically, "It won't change that I love you, if that's what you want."

He felt slimy, and all the odd Slytherin he was supposed to be, but saying such things to his beloved also hurt, despite wanting them to change the way his green eyes stared back in unfamiliarity.

"I do want you to read it," Harry growled, "I'm not trying to stop you from loving anyone, Malfoy."

If there were ways to express exactly how much hearing him being called by a name that had been obsolete for two years, Draco would yell it at his husband in a heartbeat. He'd taken Potter for a multiple of reasons, mostly because it was attached firmly to the Minister of Magic. No, that was obviously the last reason he could fathom, yet it seemed that in that moment it was the only plausible cause to the man before him.

Draco still hadn't taken the book.

"Harry," he said, his patience suddenly flooding him, though his resentment grew each time his husband looked into his eyes like a different person. "Why is it so hard for you to call me Draco? Anything… _anything_ would be better than Malfoy, for Merlin's sake."

There was a foreboding pause before Harry seemed to find the good graces to speak, "It's hard."

"I'm sure it is…" Draco agreed, though he felt like he was lying a bit. "Would you just come with me to lunch? We usually do this every day."

"Why not?" It seemed that Harry had taken now too much pity on him, though in Draco's brutal honesty, it was better than rejection stinging at his heart.

Hadn't they gone through enough teenage drama the summer of seventh year?

"I'll apparate us, we can talk once we're fed."

They had both eaten their meals quickly, but it seemed reluctance got the better of them both as Harry looked through his rough draft that he'd happened to have brought with him. He was dreadfully intent on reading it, his eyes scanning over several of the pages as his hour wasted away before them. Draco had wanted to talk, but he didn't dare say anything until the book was closed, and Harry was sipping his luke-warm tea.

"What _happened_ that makes you hate me so much, Harry?"

Was he trying to be rude by picking up the book and reading it again? Though, as he flipped through the pages, Harry suddenly thrust it forward and said commandingly, "Read."

This happened several times over until it felt like Draco had received whiplash from a pensieve of memories. They'd fought, yelled, and cursed one-another until war, in Harry's warped version of life, in which Draco realized unfortunately they were on two different sides of a war.

When he handed the book, Harry seemed to verbally continue the story, "Then… then you saved my life, even when you and your whole family's life depended on it. So, what I'm trying to say is I don't hate you… Hermione told me so many things, and you've been unconditional and steadfast… but what have I had to offer? Malice? I was sitting here, at a lunch you have with a man you love beyond fault, and here I am, nose in my book, thinking this world still exists."

He wasn't sure where the sudden vomit of honesty was coming from, but Draco was sure his wide, grey eyes begged for the black-haired wizard to continue.

"That world ceased to exist years ago, Malfoy, and even where I came from I had dropped all my hate, did you know? I spoke for you and your mother at hearings, I saved your bloody life from a fire!"

Harry seemed genuinely upset with himself as he passionately spoke to Draco who merely relished at seeing the truth before him. He hadn't expected a change in less than twenty-four hours, but he was no man to complain. He always _had_ detested angsty situations.

"I was in my office not an hour ago, and I decided that I wouldn't accept this," the impassioned wizard took his hand and wrapped it around one of Draco's causing him to shiver, "And then you take me to lunch, look at me like a lost puppy, and I remember that I forgave you, and you forgave me for all those things we'd mucked up over the years.

"I certainly don't love you yet," with all the things this new Harry had been admitting, Draco could probably not have cared less he'd said this, "But I am willing to care… to acclimate myself while I allow you at least a little bit of normalcy. Merlin, I can hardly reckon what Hermione is thinking with Snape and keeping our secret her own. I sometimes wish I hadn't told you, that we'd tried to figure everything out on our own, then, of course, you wouldn't have told us bollocks if we'd acted the tiniest bit normal before you. I keep reminding myself everything happens for a few different reasons, and now I'm rambling… my point is-"

It was stunning to Draco that someone's demeanor could change so drastically in such a short period of time. Had it really only been twenty-four hours?

The hand clutching his own helped him believe it all, though.

"Things are different, and since I've accepted everything else, I want to accept this too."

"Even if a few minutes ago you clearly reckoned in your office that you didn't?"

"Even if," Harry affirmed.

Draco smiled.

"Now call me Draco Potter," he ordered gleefully, intertwining their fingers across the table.

"Baby steps, _Potter_."

The blonde could tell that he struggled to do just that, so he took it all the same.

"I'll do my best to help you out whenever you need it, still, Hermione too. I love you both, you know. I'd do anything for you."

"Why do I feel jealous?"

"Because I said I loved someone other than you?" Draco guessed.

"No," Harry asserted, "Definitely not."

They laughed, together, and finally Draco felt at ease since a gruelling twenty-four hours before. Such a short time to cause so much torture and for one to completely flip-change their feelings. Still, he was not going to be ungrateful.

Though, he was still Slytherin, and by Merlin he was going to take his liberties while he had them.

Getting up, also realizing how close it was for Harry to return to work, Draco leaned over and blatantly pressed his lips to Harry's not caring that the wizard jolted back and near pushed him off if it weren't for the fact the chair was high-backed and gave him no room to escape.

"I love you," and with those words, Draco was gone from the restaurant to find a good place to apparate.

Harry returned to his office quickly, settling back into his chair to find a few new files waiting for his signature and several other random scrolls of parchment that he would find out the contents of later. They were minimally important compared to his dining with his husband.

Relieved was never something Harry had expected to be feel when he'd agreed to go out with Malfoy for something they did every day. He hadn't thought that it would make him so happy, that _Draco_ would seem so utterly thrilled at the prospect of even having his husband just to care for him. The auror imagined it was hard for the bloke over the past twenty-four hours, especially if he felt even the tiniest bit how Harry himself did about all the changes.

Had it really only been a day?

While he still felt marginally uncomfortable about how he was bonded to one Draco Potter, as he might always feel, Harry wanted to move forward. His parents were alive, and so were so many others that he genuinely loved. Severus Snape was not entirely someone he imagined being glad to see alive, but even the potion's master couldn't damper the excitement that came with such a prospect.

"Harry?"

The reverie was broken instantly when Hermione came into his office.

"What are you doing here?"

Gulping, the witch looked quite nervous as she took the first tentative step forward, her body slouching in an unusual fashion.

"They wanted me to tell you… your father's been attacked."

"By who?" Harry shot up immediately, looking quite petrified himself as he stared his friend down for answers with piercing green eyes.

"Pettigrew."

With brows furrowing her only response, Hermione rolled her eyes and made to explain.

"Before you returned from lunch, I did some research discretely through important case-files over the years, and it turns out that Peter Pettigrew became an enemy to your family, and the Lupins and Blacks, since James became Minister in our seventh year. He's been on the run after a few curses and crimes, but he's worse here than he ever was where we remember."

"Is my father alright?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, "He is at Mungo's for as long as it takes to run some diagnostic spells, though, just to make sure."

"Good. Did he say who he wanted investigating?"

"No one, the Minister wants it kept quiet until he can figure out what else Pettigrew is planning."

Harry nodded curtly at Hermione who silently judged him with her eyes.

"Hermione," he started curiously, "Do you know if he's an animagus here?"

"Is Lupin a werewolf?" She countered.

Pursing his lips, Harry had no idea if he was or wasn't. There was a chance he was since the only thing they knew of Remus was his teaching career at Hogwarts, but there was no easy way to find out for sure. Unless he asked Draco. Though, when he'd seen his parents the day prior, they had been calling Sirius by Padfoot, and James by Prongs. Before Harry could voice such a revelation, the thoughts were cut off.

"Oh! Something else… look what I found in my office," Hermione exclaimed, pulling a small notebook from seemingly nowhere. "It's a planner, and it has all of my upcoming events in it! Even my due date."

The last part was mumbled with a short regard, shoving the small book at Harry so he could see it.

"What luck," he said, "No matter what me there is, I wouldn't do this."

Laughing, they both silently agreed and Hermione sat herself down.

"Do you even know what you're supposed to be working on? I hardly do, which is really unfortunate."

"I'm sure it is for you, but yes. I have an idea when people make me fill things out. Luckily I haven't had to do any reports or such on any crime scenes because I don't recall a thing."

An affirmative nod came from Hermione as she seemed to think.

"Where were you for lunch? I came to ask you a question and you weren't here."

Sighing, already feeling uncomfortable with where the conversation was going, Harry gathered his thoughts before telling his curious friend what he'd done. Even if it wasn't the question, bringing up Malfoy-Potter would automatically raise it anyways.

"I went with Malfoy to lunch."

"With _Draco_?" She implied.

"Yes, Hermione, with Draco Potter, the wizard of which I have agreed to… care for because I realized how much of a bloody prat I was being. I forgave him in that book I wrote… but I guess I didn't really do it until just recently if I held all that hatred for him still."

Narrowing his eyes, Harry could see the satisfaction plastered about his best-friend's features.

She seemed far too happy with herself had you asked him, but of course, Harry was too courteous to point it out.

"That's actually wonderful, really, because we have another dinner Friday."

"With who?" Harry wondered excitedly.

He wanted to see his parents again, in such a comfortable environment as Grimmauld was. He doubted his father would allow him anywhere near Mungo's while he was just having a post-duel check-up.

"Actually, it's with the lot of us, Ron, Blaise, Draco, yourself, and I," she said with a grin, "Though, I think it's literally just the five of us, because I hardly reckon Severus is much of a partier."  
Harry laughed genuinely at such a statement, and smiled, really smiled which only made his best friend burst into an assortment of giggles alongside him.

"Everything okay in paradise?" He wondered quickly.

"Yeah... It is, and he hasn't noticed anything odd yet, so at least that is going well. Sometimes I feel like I should tell him," Hermione admitted guiltily.

"You can't, Hermione! This is Severus Snape we're talking about, he'd react poorly, besides, you've already started the lie, telling him now would just upset him, wouldn't it?"

Hermione's shoulders pressed back, and her lips became a thin line that was so often associated with a look of Minerva McGonagall. Harry knew she was thinking about what he'd said, and it wasn't often he had to tell her things, let alone did he ever speak truths that Hermione herself hadn't ever thought of.

"I still feel guilty."

"You're just protecting him from heartbreak… I wish we had noticed earlier and I could have prevented seeing all those looks on Draco in the past few hours. They were mortifying, honestly, and I didn't even like him originally."

"I'm glad you came to your senses, but you know the way we handled things wouldn't have ever allowed us to just _act normally_."

"I know."

There were several things on both of their minds just then, Harry thinking mostly of the stress only twenty-four hours in a different realm had caused him. There were people in his life he hardly knew from the other one that claimed to be his best mates, even his husband. Referring to Draco with fondness was new as well, and even ghosting over a thought of Severus Snape with Hermione made discontented shivers shoot down his spine.

"I should really go visit my dad, Hermione."

"No," she grimaced, "He didn't want you to worry. He just wants you to pull files on Pettigrew and get to work. James thinks he's got some type of accomplice or follower now. Maybe even a few. Then if we get eyes on him, he wants you to follow him and try to catch him for something we can bring him in for, the attack wasn't enough for the Minister apparently."

"This is surreal, I finally get to chase after the rat, even if it isn't for the crimes I want."

"But it is for your dad, Harry," Hermione reminded him pridefully, "So get to work, owl me if you need anything, understand?"

"Yes, Madame Snape."

He deserved the slap to the back of his head.

Thumbing through his files took the rest of the day as Harry read all the offenses that Pettigrew had committed, though none of the charges ever stuck. It really bit hard on the auror that while there was also nothing much to go on in case files, there was also no sign of the wizard who attacked his father either. The man was evading the aurors very well as of late, and it seemed that to top it all off, he did have a few stray witches and wizards at his side.

It mortified Harry to no end to see that there was bad in such a world of good things. Surely having his parents meant an amazing deal of benefit, and there being no Voldemort made everything just as well, but then Pettigrew became a lead evildoer? From what he knew of Wormtail, the man was cowardly and hid behind his father and Sirius the whole of their career at Hogwarts. Maybe it was all the changes, the fact that everyone was stronger and such without pureblood supremacy.

Harry also got to thinking on that little problem which hadn't seemed to click until it was almost time to leave the Ministry. No one seemed keen on blood-status any longer, and that had him wondering why and _how_. The declaration of the sacred twenty-eight families had been far before Voldemort lived, and Dumbledore hadn't the power or the book Harry had written yet… had he? This only brought up more questions of course, which lead the Gryffindor on a slight detour away from Grimmauld to a wizarding book store where he gathered up a book of the Wizarding Laws ( _Magical Laws and Their Wizarding Creators_ ).

It was through some light reading of the index that Harry found reference to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, finding that Dumbledore, the wonderful wizard he was, had been the man to convince the Wizengamot to abolish the declaration and give way to anyone thinking they were better than others. He'd convinced enough of the population by the time his imprisonment came around that it didn't matter he'd murdered a potentially dangerous child, what mattered was that he'd changed history enough to make a difference.

Whether Harry was surprised or proven right by what Dumbledore had done, it didn't mean much to him as things had changed for the better. Obviously if the elder Malfoy could fall in love with his mother, no matter how completely insane the image was, Harry knew that there must be very few people who thought of purebloods or blood status at all anymore.

Besides Pettigrew, there was so much good in the world now. Harry decided that, even if it killed him, he would find Wormtail and make sure he paid for the things he was doing against the Ministry right then because learning the hard way, the transgressions of the past did not hold over the present he now lived in.

Hi!

I am SOOOOO sorry that I haven't posted in a while, I feel really bad, but I'm moving into college in three days, so it's been busy! I wanted to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews, and hang tight for introductions to some new characters. (My little bit about the Sacred Families is bollocks, I just made that up, though it was based off some canon material!) I also have a new one-shot out called Teddy. It's Drarry fluff, something cute if you want a quick read!


	8. Lunch Date

When a new day came, Hermione awoke to an empty bed. Her heart hammered until she heard the pelting sounds of a running shower, easing her nerves from all the many thoughts that had raced across her mind. There were many things alarming about living a life that was yours, but you didn't remember… even though you acted like you did. Hermione Granger was no fickle person, however, and she knew that things would ease over time with what she already knew, to life that continued to be her own. She simply hoped that no one figured it out before she had the chance to completely integrate into this life.

The fear that Severus would find out exactly what she was hiding lied with her every moment her thoughts were conscious, and that was far too often to be content. He was a very skilled Legilimens, and though not truly to the man she knew so well from six years of instruction, Severus Snape was _nearly_ the same. He seemed to brood less often, and his hair was very soft to the touch, but still Hermione feared that he would take away from her the love he gave if he knew that she recalled an acutely different timeline. Besides, not telling him upfront of such a detrimental secret would kill any trust he had in her, so it was best to not ruin it.  
This also meant occlumency lessons from _someone_.

Lessons that she had already taken from Severus her seventh year supposedly. Groaning, Hermione flipped over and decided she would take a shower that evening, grasping her wand and sending her clothes her way, casting a quick cleansing charm to hold her over for the day. It wasn't like she hadn't taken one yesterday.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?" She replied carefully, walking up to the door where Severus had called her.

"Fetch me a set of robes, I have to attend business at the school today as Minerva and I prepare for the first years."

Hermione nodded as if he could see her, and then scrambled to the dressers where she pulled a set of robes and prayed to both Merlin and Circe that she'd gotten the right ones. It wasn't too hard, they all looked the same, but that specific set was a darker black if truly possible.

Hermione knocked, which was a notable mistake when her husband laughed in response, mockingly uttering, "Come in."

There were many things at Hogwarts that she imagined over the years which fascinated her imagination and drove it impossibly wild, or scared the living hell out of her, but the one thing that hadn't ever crossed her mind was what Severus Snape looked like under all those robes he was wearing. Hermione had blissfully glossed over such a question, even as she spent the prior evenings in his company, under his arm. He'd changed outside of her vision, and yet seeing him now? Her poor brown eyes were assaulted, though that shiver down her spine was not disgust.

"Love?" He wondered curiously, holding out his hand, luckily it wasn't the one holding up the towel slung around pale hips.

Severus Snape was not a large man, but he wasn't emaciated either. People assumed he wore so many layers simply due to the fact that he was skin and bones, though Hermione had her very hardy proof that they were all wrong. He wasn't like Ron with his fit body and perfectly toned muscles, but he was very much healthy under all that black he disguised himself in. If his wonderfully talented lips hadn't done her in, Hermione was sure this vision of him would have solidified her fancy.

"Sorry," she mumbled quickly, placing his robes in his nimble hand, quickly scampering out after the odd look he tossed her.

Luckily enough, he didn't have his wand, so there was no probing her mind for information on such strange demeanor.

It was then what he'd said earlier hit her. He was dressing to go to the school! Next Monday was the first of September, of course! Hogwarts would be attending to new students in just a few days. Hermione hadn't put much thought in school over the past few years, so it being late August bothered her memory not. Now, of course, she saw that it meant her husband would be returning to his job, and Hogwarts would again have students within it. Still odd did it feel when she thought of Severus Snape as her spouse and bonded partner in magic.

As Harry had already mentioned, however, she felt like it was pretty right to do so.

While Hermione had always been an odd little witch, there was certainly something off about her on that day that Severus couldn't quite place. There wasn't _much_ of a difference in the way she carried on, but still, she seemed rather different, and he would know being married to the woman. It was very like her sixth-year self when she'd supposedly developed her fancy for him.

He clearly recalled the look of disdain on Remus' face when he'd heard of his giving into her fancy. No other witch would have proclaimed such a thing!

Regardless, he dressed on and made sure he looked presentable before exiting the bathing room and looking to find his witch settled on the bed.

"Are you alright?" He asked her curiously.

Sometimes it even evaded his mind for moments that his wife was carrying a child, but surely enough he recalled when she looked up at him sparsely.

"Perfectly."

Humming a quick reply, he grabbed his wand from a side-table and kissed her head, rather enjoying the way she leaned in and smiled with her beautiful brown eyes shut.

"I shall return soon."

"Take your time."

There was no hesitation in his leaving, for if there had been, he would have held her for the rest of the day and delayed them both from important work.

The castle grounds were as they'd always been… as in when he'd first arrived, when he'd made friends with a shy Remus Lupin in lieu of Lily Evans, when he'd eventually decided to join the rag-tag group of Gryffindors, and especially when they'd all gotten in a load of trouble for nearly destroying the whomping willow- it was very much fine, all its leaves grew back like nothing had happened, the near-suspension wasn't worth the effort.

Entering the castle, Severus took a few turns, nearly memorized by then, and skillfully arrived at the Headmistress' office. He'd been honored when Minerva originally invited him to be the Potion's Professor at Hogwarts, but declined spectacularly, attempting to gain a life for himself. How was he to know a life would come to him _because_ of the position?

The youngest Headmistress ever stood primly in her office, smiling as he arrived, a few others already in attendance.

"Minerva," he greeted kindly, though kindly was hardly how they affiliated when the Quidditch matches began to commence.

Lupin was always so as well, even in Quidditch… more so when Gryffindor pulled through successfully, however. The teachers would never admit it to the students, but they placed bets each and every year. When Hermione's best friend had occupied Gryffindor house team, however, Severus had barely been able to put down a knut in good faith.

"Severus," the man reached out his hand and then they embraced happily, Hermione's pregnancy a poignant topic.

"You know all the looks I've been getting from upper years are your fault!" Remus jokingly said, "Now every girl thinks she deserves a Professor."

Severus chuckled, "Ah, but unfortunately, I'm taken and you're bent, so that doesn't leave much, does it?"

Remus grinned.

"Which reminds me! Heard from your traveling lover lately?"

Sirius spent more time with dragons than he did Remus, but it didn't bother either bloke apparently, so the group teased on. Lucius specifically found it most entertaining when Black _would_ return and he'd change his look drastically just to spite the man when he noticed.

He was a very dapper dresser, at least Sirius had that going for him.

"No," the wizard shoved his hands in his pockets, "Last owl I received was the one I showed you about Charlie and the new infant dragon who is way too bloody attached to him."

Blatantly ignoring other professors who arrived one at a time, Severus responded, "Not jealous of young Charlie Weasley, are we? Or perhaps the infantile dragon?"

"And you weren't ever jealous of a _Weasley_ , Severus?" Lupin raised.

"Remus," Severus' tone heightened, "I was never jealous of a _student_."

The man only grinned.

"Attention." It didn't take much for Minerva McGonagall to have the room's undivided stares. "I want all of you to remain at your most vigilant state this year, for if you have received _The Prophet_ recently you would know that there is a master criminal at large. He has attacked our Minister, and a good friend of many of your co-workers. We do not know whatsoever if he plans to target the school, but do not take this information with a grain of salt. Pettigrew is dangerous, and I want no student to be harmed, nor one of you. I don't have the mentality to hire new staff," she jested lightly, despite her very serious message.

Severus only shared a look with Remus, both of which felt guilty for knowing and supporting the man at one point. No one blamed them, yet still there was an odd sense of said blame that both Severus and Remus took upon themselves.

They didn't seem to dwell on it as they discussed school topics, each subject getting attention and briefed of what they were to be doing over the months to come. A few professors had altered the curriculum slightly, Pomona announcing that she was taking on an apprentice in Neville Longbottom.

When everyone was freed from the meeting, Lupin and Severus walked down the halls towards Hogsmeade, knowing they were to meet James and Lily for lunch. There also seemed to be a rumor that Sirius had applied for a portkey, but considering that had been in his last letter a few weeks prior, Severus took it with a grain of salt, as did Remus.

"Did Minerva hold you two over, or are you just slow?" Lily wondered brightly, her arms around them both before either man could hardly say hello. Luckily enough, the Hog's Head was empty in that moment, and her husband's security was far enough away to give them a small amount of privacy.

"He's slow, the old bat," Lupin remarked, laughing happily on at James who just seemed to stare at his wife, concentrating.

"Were we to expect Lucius?"

"So Lily could get hit-on, Severus? No," Potter determined.

"He has business, you prat," his wife scolded him, "Now can we eat? I'm in need of chips."

They all settled into a table, ordering drinks as the waiter came over, then they fell into easy conversation… that is until Pettigrew was brought up.

Lily explained her disbelief almost immediately for her once friend who had done what was now the unforgivable. She loved James dearly, and any transgression against him was something that even Sirius wasn't capable of escaping.

James seemed more indifferent, which completely juxtaposed the feelings of Severus and Remus who were no less than appalled.

"It hardly matters. I hadn't known he was so petty when I took my position. If I had known such things about him before, I don't entirely think I would fancied being friends with the rat-"

"James!" Lily scolded him quickly.

"He's right, unfortunately," Severus was quick to add, "And don't make such a face, Lily. Peter obviously hadn't any true intentions if we decidedly ended up here."

"I feel guilty, really, I was the one who pushed us all to be friends with him. He seemed so innocent, really, admirable," Lupin commented, sipping at his butterbeer. The rugged blonde was certainly the most conservative of the crew.

"We were all wrong about him, Moony, you can't charge yourself all the fault," Lily said kindly, taking his hand and smiling her bright smile.

"We really need to drop those abhorrent nicknames, you lot. I haven't howled at a moon since I was drunk off my arse in fourth year."

James laughed genuinely, chugging back a gulp of his drink, arm thrown around Lily.

"I think it suits you well, you do have a wolf animagus."

"We know," Severus moaned, "We have all had animagi forms since third year."

"Which is why you're our own personal dungeon bat, Mr. Slytherin."

Black eyes rolled dramatically.

"I prefer to think of myself as an exceptionally large fly on the wall who saved us all from a plethora of detentions."

"Mhm," they all agreed.

It was quiet for a moment until a familiar voice stepped in with a laugh.

"It didn't help the Vampire rumors, though, did it, Batty?"

Remus looked up first, grinning as a long-haired Sirius waltzed forward to throw his robes aside and sit at their table. He winked specifically at his lover whose smile faded more into annoyance at his dramatics.

"I think I agree with you, Lupin, those names must stop."

"I quite like being called Prongs, though," James argued objectively.

"Ah, _so_ befitting of the Minister of Magic," Sirius commented.

"Did one of the dragons knock sense into you, Padfoot?"

"Of course not," Lily determined, all pursed lips and queenly manners, "He doesn't have any scars."

"Unfortunate," Severus added briskly.

The meal continued on, Sirius happily integrated into the conversations until they turned back to Pettigrew who seemed to strike a much stronger chord in Black than in the others.

"I still cannot believe the bloody bastard attacked you, Prongs! It's a crime, can't you take him in, or better yet, have Harry do it!"

"If I could catch him, yes, but I reckon that you don't know where he is any better than I do."

Sirius Black looked quite depressed at this.

"The star team can't figure it out?" He asked hopefully, referring to his god-son and four best-friends.

"Blaise wouldn't be of much help."

"Now, Severus-" Lily wasn't able to finish her scolding.

"I had him for six years in Potions, Lily, I guarantee he would be of little help."

"He's charming, mostly," Remus added, "Though I think I recall giving him a single O in Defense, but that was the day he'd sat next to Harry."

"That husband of his stared too much at your son to keep his eyes focused in Seventh year, it's no wonder Zabini got no help from him."

"Draco was second in the class next to Hermione though!" Lily protested, wondering how on Earth Draco hadn't been a good influence on Blaise.

"He served quite a few detentions with me," Lupin added with a fond smile.

"I should have become a Professor, maybe magical creatures?" Sirius said giddily, "Imagine us working together, Rem?"

Apparently it was an awful idea since Lupin seemed quite annoyed.

"I could see all the kids failing their finals because you taught them nothing."

Deflated, Sirius agreed with a mumble and a sip of Severus' drink to which the Slytherin growled convincingly enough to have it handed back.

"They have their dinner this weekend, don't they?"

"Friday," Severus replied to Lily's question automatically. Hermione had been thrilled over it as usual, and he couldn't blame her. This lunch was certainly the highlight of his week when things got difficult.

"Iris is coming to town just for it, I hope she visits," James added. He couldn't quite seem to let go of his little girl, despite the fact she was very much her own adult and a star player on her Quidditch team.

"She has a life, James, there is only so much visiting she can do," Lily scolded her husband firmly, "You must understand that seeing as you are the Minister of Magic and all. You know, those little things called _responsibilities_."

Sirius, James, and Remus all collectively snorted, but Severus agreed with the redhead.

"You all have to admit they've grown immensely. Especially Ron with the wonderful influence Aries has one him."

"Much agreed," Severus said wholeheartedly.

"She ruined him! Ron was a lot of fun, I must say," Sirius grinned, "He always played a good game of chess."

"He still does, Hermione moans about it more often than I of your lot's incessant need to call me a dungeon bat."

"At least it's Snivellus anymore."

There was a _collective_ eye-roll at Sirius this time.

After they'd eaten and had their fun, mostly attempting to get James' assigned Auror to eat or at least join the fun, the group dispersed and went on with their days, Severus returning to Hermione and the rest to their respective homes. Sirius was quite thrilled to see Remus, and though the more responsible one didn't show it too awfully, he was happy as well.

A/N

I know it's a bit shorter than usual, but I wanted to get to the fun of next chapter where we get to meet Aries and Iris! And sorry if it's a bit rough around the edges, college is frying my brain into shriveled pieces. Also, Snape was able to be friends with James and Sirius eventually because they wanted to be friends with Lily and since there wasn't a pungent form of dark arts in Slytherin, he was able to keep her around and eventually get pulled into Gryffindor madness. I like to think that he and Remus also formed a fast friendship, too. So, there it is! I'm pretty sure my next chapter will come much faster than this one did, I promise it definitely won't be a month again! Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Supper

A/N It wasn't a month between updates this time! Woo-hoo! And for all my Sevmione shippers, I promise I will be getting to them in the next chapter! In fact, the next one is _all_ for them!

Harry opened a letter from Hermione that Friday morning, penned in her scribbled writing. Apparently she'd made a mistake in her estimation for it simply being the five of them for dinner. Not only was there to be Draco, Blaise, Ron, Hermione and himself, the company was also supposed to include Aries and Iris.

Honestly, seeing as there was little word from her, Harry thought very little of his sister. The fact he had one was a baffling enough topic for him to digest, but now he was to actually encounter her? This was a young woman who loved him dearly, from what Draco had said, and yet there he was… oddly attached but unknowing of everything about her.

Apparently she was a bloody good chaser, James Potter's precious idol, and Lily's near replica despite being nothing like her. She was as Gryffindor as they got, but she barely passed her classes sometimes unless it was herbology… which probably explained why she'd dated Neville- Harry would have a word with him later- and her best friends were Draco's sister and Luna. It astounded him how much this stranger suddenly meant to him, but Harry found that developing feelings quickly was something he would have to get used to.

Waking up to the face of Draco Malfoy Potter the first time had been odd, especially being intertwined as they were, but the day after he'd met gray eyes and felt pulled in to the good morning kiss that followed. Harry liked Draco, that was for sure, and he'd refrained from offending him, it seemed, so things were going well.

Draco Potter appeared to be more comfortable with everything as well. He was extremely ready to answer questions, more likely so if he was holding his husband's hand, and things were working well for them all.

Every so often, Harry thought back to Ginny as well and wondered what life would be like if she had had a longer part in this world. Would he have still fallen for Draco? Would there have been someone else, another wizard perhaps?

Those thoughts hurt, however, and so occupying himself with worries over the upcoming dinner seemed far more feasible.

Draco wasn't overly worried, simply fretting over his hair as Harry watched on, amused one man could take such an extended amount of time on a single facet of his appearance.

"Oh stop gawking, Harry, you know I'm gorgeous."

Harry snorted and leaned further into the doorframe.

"That would take seconds with magic, you know that, don't you?"

"Don't you?" The blonde quipped, gesturing towards the black mop that served as Harry Potter's hair.

"Obviously, but I think I look just fine enough."

"These are our friends, and I wish to impress them as always. You really lucked out on a spouse, I mean, you could be Hermione."

"Now, now, she fancied him enough, and that's all that matters," Harry scolded his partner.

"Well, aren't you excited to meet the sister you never thought you'd have?" Draco wondered. It seemed his inquiries about Harry's other life were easy to come by as well, and often enough he didn't mind answering them.

"Nervous, really. I had thought siblings would come in the form of marrying into a witch's family… not biologically."

"Biologo- what?" Draco asked him seriously, looking befuddled as his hands fell from his hair.

Harry kissed him flatly and told him he'd explain it later.

"Hey! Come back!" Draco called, running after his husband, "I was doing some reading today and found something pertaining to your condition!"

That stopped Harry at the bottom of the stairs, turning on his heels. He'd left Draco alone that morning for a half day of work at the Ministry, but he didn't expect him to have done anything productive with that time. He usually went out and visited friends then ate lunch with Harry, then went back and read wizarding fiction.

"What did you find?"

"Well, you obviously know how you don't remember any of this previous life here… well that's because you've transitioned to an alternate timeline. The life you lived really was in existence, but you left it behind. There, you still exist, which is completely different from the type of time-travel wizards usually undergo."

"We didn't travel through time, though," Harry interrupted.

"I know, but your book did and altered events so drastically that instead of returning to events like when you did in your third year, things changed."

"Obviously."

The harsh tone caught Draco off-guard, but he didn't seem overly fazed as he went on, "While your memories won't return to any full extent unless you are shown pensieve memories, your emotional state is slowly changing to fit this time-line. Hermione was obviously affected much more quickly than you were, but I can see you change. No normal person would adapt so quickly, it's the magic of time molding you here."

Swallowing, it seemed the black-haired wizard was understanding his partner. It made quite a lot of sense, really, as Harry imagined that in normal circumstances he would have probably killed Malfoy before agreeing to be civil and loving towards him.

"Right. Let's just hope that applies to my sister as well. Maybe I'll take a few pages from Ron's book… then again I probably shouldn't."

"What was Ginny like… as an adult?" Draco wondered, knowing very well why Harry had mentioned his best mate.

"Brilliant, really. Fierce is probably the best way to describe her, I reckon. She was a strong witch, threw a bat-bogey hex like no tomorrow. I can't believe she's gone, really."

There was an extended embrace that Draco drew his husband into, hoping to convey to him that it was okay. Although, Harry wasn't sure about the fact that it was Ginny being gone or that the emotion of hurt would fade the longer this life affected him that pained him more. Regardless, he held tight to Draco.

"Usually when I floo through, I find you two snogging, though I really shouldn't complain if the rating of your activities decreased," an unfamiliar voice to Harry said casually, laughing when he ripped himself away from Draco.

Taking in the lovely woman before him, there was no doubt in his mind this witch was his very own sister. Iris Potter was a radiant redhead who smiled brightly as Lily Potter always would, though her brown eyes looked entirely as her father's did. Harry was utterly astounded at how his sister got all the good genes of the family, when he was just simple old him. Really, however, he knew _already_ that he loved her. There was something about him always wanting a family that made him throw his arms around her, for he would always deny that it was the force of magic's will in lieu of time that did it.

"Whoah, mate, what on earth is up with you? It's only been a few months."

"Exactly," Harry played it off, "I've missed you."

Iris leaned over and looked at a grinning blonde.

"What did you do to him, Draco?" She asked snarkily, letting go of the boy-who-lived to leave him to his distress witnessed merely by the blonde who smirked even harder then.

"Nothing," He admitted, " _I_ did nothing, I promise."

Iris eyed him suspiciously then turned on her brother and smiled.

"Where is everyone?"

"Theirs? You're early," Draco said from behind her, sitting down to watch the spectacle before him, quite enjoying it.

"I got finished up at mum and dad's and figured why not! I am the life of this party."

"That's Blaise," Draco drawled, grabbing a book from the side table.

"That's definitely me," Harry determined he needed to be put back into the conversation, "How were mum and dad?"

A shrug was all that he received, and while the black haired wizard thought that a nod wasn't sufficient whatsoever to describe Lily and James Potter, he accepted it knowing this world was _slightly_ different than his past.

"Get your head out of that book, Draco, you know I hate it when you go all Slytherin on me," Iris scorned her brother-in-law sassily. Red hair fell behind her making it seem scarily as though Ginny were standing before Harry, but this young woman was far too tan for it to be her.

"Sorry, dearest. Do you know when Aries and that traitor of a friend are supposed to be here?"

"No, do I look like I have time to talk to her at all? I'm a pro Quidditch player, besides. You and Ron are best mates, it can't be that hard now that he's dating your sister to be friendly."

"Amiability was reserved for he who doesn't date my little sister."

"Ron's a fine bloke-"

"Oi, don't tell me, Iris," Harry joked.

"I swear I wouldn't touch the five of you, I know mum would go arse over tits if she found I had even dated _Neville_."

Draco laughed heartily, "I remember when you told me about how you thought Hermione's buck teeth were adorable in fourth year-"

"I'll hex you so fast, Draco Malfoy, if your words don't stop _right_ there."

The blonde's hands were up innocently, though Harry thought the malicious grin on his face seemed a bit foreshadowing in its manner.

"At least I picked a gender to fancy, Merlin knows you can't"

Harry was startled at those words, but not for long. Draco seemed to have looked purposefully over to gage his reaction, though. He hadn't said it to tease, he'd skillfully filled Harry in on his sister's sexuality. Which didn't matter, the information was simply rather good and well to know.

"Oo, tense, I like it," a voice echoed the sound of the floo interrupting their little debacle, and Harry grinned.

"Ron!"

He immediately wrapped the wizard in a hug, which was admittedly not the brightest thing he'd done in this new reality, but it didn't seem to phase the redhead too much.

"Mate, how was the week?"

"Good, nothing much exciting," Harry lied through his teeth, but the snicker from his husband seemed to go unnoticed.

It was then, as a smile crossed his own face, that Harry noticed the stunningly beautiful white-haired woman right next to his best mate. Tall, though not as tall as Ron, thin, and basically a feminine version of his husband stood before his eyes. She was gorgeous, and Harry supposed that he wouldn't expect anything less of one Aries Malfoy. Though, there was this odd feeling in his gut that something didn't feel right, and when his eyes landed back on his own Malfoy, the feeling calmed and suddenly the world was back in order. Only a single reason could be found in Harry's mind for such a justification, and that was most definitely that time really was affecting his emotions if a beautiful witch such as her did nothing for him. He would use the time-effect excuse for anything related as long as Draco would let him, really.

"Hey Harry," she said casually, calm and poetic like her mother, though her features were sharp and high like her father. It was a shame she didn't know her mother.

Ron slung an arm over her shoulder like it was nothing, and grinned. Even when he'd been with Hermione that short period of time, he didn't think that the wizard had been happier.

"Aries," it seemed too informal to say anything else to her.

Draco cleared his throat and looked casually at his watch.

"I wonder when everyone else will get here, seeing as apparently five in the evening means nothing to you lot," he snapped.

"Calm yourself, Malfoy. Don't you want to see your little sister?"

"Yes, her, not you, however."

Ron only laughed, Aries blushing.

"Are you not over this by now brother? It's been six months now."

The only reply the blonde recieved was a glare from her sibling.

"Am I late?"

Hermione came through the floo, looking most concerned that nearly everyone had beaten her there, and seeing as Harry was still rushed on the adrenaline of having seen his sister and sister-in-law just now, he was of no help to answer her.

"You're fine, 'Mione," Ron said, nearly exasperated by her worry, "As always, Blaise is last and certainly least."

The whole group seemed to laugh bar Hermione and Harry who caught on soon enough to at least giggle amusedly.

"Actually, he'll be here on time, you're all bloody early. It's only half four, and I specifically said five."

"Shut it, Malfoy, you bloody prat. We get here when we get here."

Finally getting up in protest from his place on the couch, Draco marched over to his husband and grasped his neck, their lips coming together in a fierce kiss that startled Harry more than the rest of the room. Hermione gasped quite loudly, but Iris and Aries giggle profusely.

"What if you'd walked in a harsher version of that, Weasley, then what would you have done?" Malfoy had left Harry Potter quite ridiculously stunned, eyes wide with an unnameable emotion as his arm possessively captured his husband's shoulders.

"Oh, bloody hell," Ron muttered burying his head into the side of a giggling Aries.

There was a pause, and then the rush of more flames, indicating yet another guest.

"Late again?" Blaise nearly shouted.

"Early," his best mate growled.

"Oh, bollocks, I'll be back when I'm late then," he joked as his cloak was shucked from his pristine clothes and he marched over to Hermione, smacking a kiss onto her cheek, doing the same to Aries and Iris who just grinned at the crazy Slytherin. It seemed he was a bit more out of his shell here, Hermione said all this, of course, with her _eyes_ across the room to Harry. It was an easy deduction to make for the Auror as he looked her way.

Harry also wasn't dense, and while he wanted to desperately tell her about the effects of their time alterations and emotions, especially seeing her so fondly clutch to her stomach, he would have to wait until much later after dinner.

"Dinner won't be ready until five, so all of you are out of luck due to your necessity to arrive early," Draco muttered, his arm moving to Harry's waist, "But I guess that's not too long."

"You're really bent over this, aren't you?" Blaise said amusedly.

The glare was enough of an answer.

"How's your chasing going, Iris?" Hermione started, looking far too eager to learn more of this new addition. She seemed to quite violently avoid looking at Aries, but Harry understood.

"Great, thanks for asking, Hermione. This lot just doesn't care like you do. And congratulations! You're going to be a bloody wonderful mum!"

"Nothing like Lily, I'm sure, though," the brightest witch of her age added fondly.

"She's given you so many tips, from what I've heard, you'll be better than she _ever_ was. I mean, it shouldn't be too hard to get a better one than Harry here."

He didn't have the heart to glare at Iris for the comment, but he silently resented it.

"Master Harry," Kreacher appeared at Harry's side and tugged on his pant-leg, wide eyed, "I heard visitors early, sir, and rushed dinner, sir. It's all prepared."

"Thank you." It was more of a sigh of relief than Harry wanted it to be, but if he really had to hear Draco moan any longer, the folds of time wouldn't keep him from slugging him in the jaw.

"Supper's up," he said, catching the whole room's attention.

Malfoy was startled, and as Blaise laughed at him, the group headed into the dining room for their much anticipated meal.

"You know," Hermione whispered as she sat down next to him on his right, Draco plopping down on his left like he owned the side, "Your sister is probably exactly what I imagined she'd be."

No matter how long he stared at the second red-head, there would be novelty to her presence.

"She's like Ginny," Harry determined, loud enough Draco heard as well, but no one else seemed to pay attention.

"Come on, you prick," Blaise suddenly broke through the silence that had ensued on Harry's end, "Shove the potatoes down, you can't have them all to yourself."

There was an easy laugh that would precedent the rest of the evening, and it couldn't have been a happier feeling for any of them.

Harry learned much of his sister over the course of dinner, and he tried very hard as well to get to know Aries. It mattered to him, in a twisted and scary sort of way, to understand the woman who was dating his best mate… also being his sister-in-law. She was grace itself, which being a Malfoy, didn't surprise Harry in the slightest. The blonde hair she possessed was admirably silky, something that could be accredited still to Narcissa Malfoy. What also stunned Harry was that this young woman was her way even with no influence from her mother. Lucius Malfoy hadn't even been a soft-hearted man to what Harry knew, and he was quite sure that it couldn't have ever changed. How wrong he was. Both Draco and Aries were very kind people, and it seemed they both blamed Harry's own mother. Lily had shaped Lucius Malfoy into a much different person than what was thought to be of the wizard originally. Apparently he'd locked eyes on her in her third year and that had been it. Unfortunately, she harbored a dramatically immense crush on James, therefore he struck out and fell for another. His love turned brotherly, still remaining love to annoy Potter, but Harry was enamored with the story. Such small things could change history so dramatically, and from it came his loving husband and this young woman who so desperately adored Ron. That story wasn't much different, though for a while Ron had been resilient. He hadn't wanted to date her at all, not wanting to risk the dynamic he had with his friends, and besides that, he didn't want to piss her brother off.

Harry was genuinely surprised Ron cared at all what Malfoy thought of him.

Eventually, which was supposedly six months prior, he'd given in after a harsh break-up with a witch he'd been with for a couple years.

Aries was very much like Luna in ways that made Harry become fond of her quickly. Besides the fact it had been her, Ginny, Luna, and Iris up until Ginevra's death, her story was very much like the young Lovegood's.

Harry also learned rather spontaneously, that his sister was a spit-fire, given breath by her pseudo uncle and godfather. More than happy to know that Sirius and Remus played an immense part in their lives, he was thrilled to know that Remus was his sister's godfather. It came as no big surprise, but what did finally hit him was the loss of Teddy Lupin. With Remus engaged in an affair with Sirius, he wasn't with Nymphadora Tonks. Though, she seemed to be a big part of their lives still. Harry worked with her, which he really hadn't known until that dinner.

There was so much happiness that it had been hard for Harry to properly grieve over Teddy like he had Ginny. His own godson was no longer a part of existence, and it should have shaken him more than it did.

Hermione saw it, too. She looked right at him when she'd pieced the affair of his family together and gave him a sad smile. He felt sad, but it was so muted and suffocated by this place that he couldn't grasp it. Frustrated, Harry had had no choice but to let it go as he continued on with dinner, blissfully happy that his very own sister sat near to him, and he was _happy_.

Iris, it seemed, made him all the more content through the night with her wonderfully quick-witted humor and flamboyant presence. She glowed, almost constantly, the whole of the night as she spoke of her sport and her teammates. The young witch adored playing as Chaser, and Harry really couldn't blame her. He could tell her brashness was nothing of her mother's giving, however, and he gave the blame mostly to Sirius. The man seemed to have been a large influence in her life, and whether or not she was extremely smart, she had just as many stories of getting into deep trouble with McGonagall as she did O's on exams.

Hermione beamed on with pride.

Occasionally, he wondered how they'd all gotten along at all when everyone at the table seemed to contrast the other greatly. Aries and Iris especially were the most drastically different people Harry encountered in terms of demeanor, yet they were as close to sister's as two unrelated people could get. Blaise was a whole new person that Harry hadn't even encountered in anyone before. Slightly reminding him of a toned-down version of Seamus, Zabini was as witty and eccentric as Iris was.

Even past all their eccentricities, the table of friends meshed together quite well through the evening. Harry and Hermione thoroughly enjoyed themselves, for it seemed they really were all meant to be.

And with a kiss to Draco's lips, affections flaring because of the time-magic, Harry rolled in his covers and slept peacefully that evening, flat-out forgetting to mention it to Hermione at all.


	10. The First Slip-Up

A/N

This is _reallllly_ short, but I promise I will make it up to you in the next chapter. I simply didn't want to dwell on what happens here...

Hermione went home after dinner feeling a lot more fulfilled than she ever thought would come of such a small occasion. Meeting two entirely new witches related to people she cared for was monumental, however, so she wasn't taken off her guard entirely by the feeling. Her stomach felt a little odd, but it was obvious that the Potter's had stuffed her with too much food, so she smiled it off as Severus looked up from his paper.

"How was your little gathering?"

"Wonderful," she told him spectacularly.

There was no other way to describe it, and she felt that her excitement was rather natural in that moment. Seeing all of her friends in one place, and having gained new ones felt immensely brilliant just then. Having so many lovely people to depend on was something Hermione had always feared she would never have.

"You look as though you enjoyed yourself quite thoroughly, I'm glad."

Settling next to the imperious wizard, she felt at home there, by his warmth and presence.

There was no way to explain her feelings, how overpowering they seemed to be, and she wouldn't take it any other way. Her love for him came on so suddenly, but it didn't surprise her all that much. Besides the fact she had to act the part to keep him from worry or being too upset, there was something about their bond that felt right… and it kept feeling more and more perfect as they days went on.

Hermione's thoughts wandered for a few moments as she watched her husband peruse the paper, her head leaned on his shoulder. She pondered over the baby and all the things she'd learned that day, and her heart raced to think about this child she was having. The funny feeling of excitement was thrilling, almost, and then it hit her dramatically.

She hadn't spoken with her parents in _quite_ a while. Back where she'd come from, they spoke at least a few times a week, and going such a long time without advice from her own mother felt simply wrong. Hermione jumped from the couch then, stifling a laugh seeing that her stubborn husband still sat idly in his position as if she hadn't flung herself from their sofa.

"Where are you going, witch?"

His nose never left the paper.

"To phone my parents, love. I'll be back."

She was gone before he could even put the pages down, but she did hear such a thing happen as she went into the kitchen where she recalled seeing a receiver. Hoping a small thing like her parents number hadn't changed, Hermione began to put the number into the telephone when she felt her husband's presence behind her.

Turning, the last thing she expected to see was Severus' wand pointed her direction, face as pointed and fierce as she'd ever seen it in her life.

"What's the matter?"

The question came out as an unfortunate chirp in lieu of her sudden fear.

" _Who_ are you?"

"Your wife," she insisted to him, gulping as a shiver fell down her spine, then cascading towards her feet, instantly chilling every nerve in her body.

"When is our anniversary?"

"I-" she choked on the answer, and it unfortunately didn't come up at all. Hermione didn't know the answer, and no amount of quick thinking would get her out of this situation. He would know now, and there was nothing she could do about it. She hadn't had time quite yet to figure small things like this out. Knowing the man's birthday was enough to get through, she hadn't thought to look at dates like an anniversary, or somehow enquire into why she was estranged with her parents. Frankly, she never thought the latter could happen.

"I can affirm you are not my wife, most certainly if not for that mere foul of not knowing a date, but for the fact that she is estranged from her parents."

Putting the telephone down, Hermione stepped forward, wand now rather close to her throat.

"I'm still _her_ , Severus-"

"Don't tempt me, witch. I will murder you with little remorse. What did you do with my wife?"

He looked rather fierce, and while she'd been on the receiving end of his Professor's wrath, this was an entirely different person before her. Black eyes seemed to inhabit sparks, and it was more than unnerving.

"I didn't do anything. I'm her!" She rushed out quickly, "Something happened, something happened to _time_."

The struggled statement got his black wand to lower to his side, but his jaw remained clenched and unpleasantly tight, as did the spindly right hand.

"I would hope in this moment you realize it is properly useless to lie to me, witch."

The tension in the room was thick, and slowly did it suffocate Hermione as tears pierced her eyes. Weakness overwhelmed her body as she assured herself the emotions her heart was undertaking were only so bloody strong because of the child resting within her womb. The hormones were probably screwing with her mind most grievously, and everything felt like it tolled on those emotions more greatly than it should.

Of course, being herself, Hermione also wondered why in Merlin's name she'd been estranged from her parents, but the wondering would have to wait if she were to calm the raging wizard before her.

"Put your wand away?" She pleaded first.

The request was fruitless, her eyes still level with his.

"I think you should tell me the truth, Hermione."

At least that was better than "witch." She was getting moderately annoyed with that addressing.

"Since less than a week ago, I've had the memory of a completely different timeline as my past… not what I have supposedly been through here."

She felt odd in not being able to explain the whole thing thoroughly.

Severus Snape seemed unsatisfied with such an answer, so he continued to look at her expectantly.

"In what I recall from this alternate reality, Harry and I were at the cafe having tea when we were attacked by a hooded figure. Myself and he were beat rather quickly, which was surprising to both of us. We'd been meeting over this book he'd written that detailed his life and how he came to kill the darkest wizard of all time at the age of seventeen. The wizard's name was Tom Riddle."

This seemed to catch his attention, and Hermione knew that she would give this man nothing but the truth, it was too bad the truth included his death.

"He killed the Potters, among many other great people who didn't deserve to die. He rallied for blood prejudice and turned many good people into awful wizards… dark wizards. Draco and yourself included."

Hermione informed him of the war, the death, the things she'd seen and finally gotten over after five years of grieving and struggle. They'd taken their strength and combined it to heal everyone they could, worrying over themselves last.

She also told him his story, and Dumbledore's gray sided version of the war.

It took her a while, but he still seemed upset by the end of it all.

"I fail to comprehend why you wouldn't tell me immediately that something changed in your recollection of the past," he said, hurt coming through the pride in his voice.

The war in his eyes went on right before her, how he seemed to know that she did what she did to protect him from heartbreak, but she also lied blatantly to his face for quite a few days, others knowing when her own husband was left in the dark. He didn't understand why, but at the same time there were reasons that he knew to be true right before him. Sometimes the right answer just didn't make sense.

"Who else knows?" Severus seemed to avoid the hurt, only caring for the cold facts of the situation. Facts Hermione very well knew he wasn't going to enjoy.

"Harry, who also suffered from this memory complication, and Draco as well."

"Right," he said contemptuously, "How did he take it?"

"I think it hurt him a lot. Draco and Harry were nowhere near the best of friends in our time," she said fondly. Seeing their change in dynamic before her own eyes was a miracle Hermione thought she wouldn't have ever been able to witness, and she was thankful that it had happened, really.

"Did you ever plan to tell me?"

"No."

There was no reason to lie about it, as it was obvious anyways she'd plan to not worry over it the rest of their married lives.

"No, of course not. I'm only a dungeon bat to you, aren't I?"

"You'd never be that, Severus," she insisted, but he was already standing and looking more distressed than before.

"But I was… you knew someone else, Hermione. A man, who despite his best efforts, still died an awful person. No matter what I do here, you'll always see him now, won't you? Someone that terrible doesn't slip your mind," Severus hissed about himself.

He spoke the truth. No matter what way you turned the story, Severus Snape where Hermione Granger remembered him was an all-gray man who lived not on the side of the light or the dark. He'd been tormented as a child and dealt with it as a weak man would. He chose the dark side and hurt those he loved for it. Poor Neville Longbottom had been mortified of the man, and he'd let Voldemort rule Hogwarts, and he let the Carrows take their reign over the children in what would have been Hermione's seventh year. It mattered on a very small scale that he risked his life to keep Harry from dying, that he double-crossed the most evil wizard to set foot on the earth, and that he loved Lily Potter above all others. His mercy killing of Dumbledore was the grayest action he'd ever committed, but still Harry had painted him in a brighter white than most would have after learning it all.

"I don't know what you'd like me to say."

"Answer me this, what have you done already to alter this time?"

"I visited Dumbledore."

That stopped all pacing the black-robed potions master had been indulging in.

"Why?"

"He's quite sane, really. The rumors are true, and he saved a lot of people by killing Riddle before he could split his soul seven times."

Hermione spoke a lot more viciously than she thought she was capable of, but that creature had caused her and those she loved a lot of pain.

"This all sounds like a muggle fiction novel, you do realize that?"

"Yes," she replied immediately.

Finally, he sat down before her, though it seemed her tale had put quite a few years on his young visage. Severus Snape looked tired, very tired, and Hermione took all the blame that she could bear.

"Sirius… did he have a brother in your timeline?"

"Regulus Black?" She supplied, wondering why he'd asked her such a random thing.

"Exactly," he supplied, "What came of him?"

"He died trying to stop Voldemort at the age of eighteen… and while he was a Death Eater for a short time, he realized what Voldemort was capable of doing, and decided that destroying a horcrux would be more appropriate than following him into battle. He posthumously helped Harry, Ron, and I very much."

"Regulus has a son, still in Hogwarts, however. He and his brother aren't the best of friends, but Regulus was a private person. When I was a Slytherin Prefect I interacted with him a few times, late nights in the common room reading this or that. He reminds me of you a bit, actually."

Hermione couldn't take it as a compliment just then seeing as he still seemed quite upset, stewing on his chair across from hers.

"Is there anything else you wanted to know?" She asked feebly.

It seemed that there wasn't much more she could do to appease the man, and when he was like this, Hermione figured it might be best to let him figure it out himself. Maybe he needed to go to bed? Have a bit of time to think it over.

Nodding Severus got quiet for a long moment, seeming to think rather hard about what he wanted to enquire of next.

Overall, Hermione thought he hadn't reacted too awfully in lieu of what she'd told him. In all seriousness, she had expected him to leave.

"Will you be alright on your own for a little while?"

That same shiver from earlier fled down Hermione's back in realization of what he was asking: "May I leave?"

"How long?"

"I don't know," Severus managed to keep his voice straight, but Hermione could not be held to the same strength this wizard was exemplifying.

"All right." The words were hoarse, her throat clenching in what felt like this new mix between anger and hurt at her own stupidity. She should have asked Draco about her parents first, hell, he should have mentioned them.

The blame was cast away quickly, her heart heavy at the fact she even thought of blaming a man who'd been very helpful to her and had to deal with his own tragedies.

"May I ask you a question before you leave, though?" She wondered hopefully, still struggling with the fact he was to leave her soon. Hermione could see behind his eyes that the man was planning what to take with him already.

"I don't see why not," he replied uncomfortably.

She couldn't blame him for the way he looked, which was most certainly evident in the way he rubbed his knees and sat up straight to receive her question.

"Why am I estranged from my parents? What did I do?"

It seemed her question was amusing to him when the laughter came from that lucrative voice of his. It was just a shame that she didn't have the heart to glare just then.

"You always assume it is your fault, don't you, Hermione?

"Well, I'll tell you that it wasn't anything you did, really. It's my fault. They refused me when I asked for your hand, and when you discovered this, you ceased all contact with them. You were a mess for a few months, Hermione, up until the wedding. James walked you down the aisle, and I imagine that helped you recover… but it was my fault… If I knew then what I know now, however, I would have done the proper thing and left you to them."

With these final words, Severus Snape left the room, stunning Hermione to say the least, her heart breaking as she felt his presence vanish from not only the room, but the whole of the house leaving her more alone than she'd ever felt before.


	11. The Start of the Sinister

A/N

What's this, you ask? Well, it is exactly what I promised when I updated a few days ago. Another update, longer, and here before a month passed by! A week hasn't even passed by! I hope you all enjoy this as much as you possibly can. I know my Drarry shippers are having a field day right now.

Harry watched as Draco waved his wand over the table, gracefully allowing things back to their places in a way that gave him much more satisfaction than the action should have. Truthfully, Harry admired his husband at this point, and it no longer scared him beyond recognition. Surely there was an explanation to his feelings… but he also began to wonder if this affection could have rooted before.

This Draco wasn't a _polar_ opposite of his prior self, this was still the stoic, prideful, and emotional Malfoy he'd unfortunately known for many years. Harry just wondered what it would have been like if he'd have accepted Draco Malfoy into his life earlier, tried to sway him to his own side, and leave the horrid instructions he was receiving in his sixth year. That Draco Malfoy had been a mere child given an impossible task that even Severus Snape himself had struggled to complete. Harry understood the hesitation in the man's eyes as he went to kill the wizard who'd saved his life… but had he?

He'd given the facts in his book, and Harry would ensure that until the day he died. Not that the book very much mattered anymore, but he remained that he was not bias on Dumbledore or Snape.

Even still, Harry continued to wonder if he even could have reached Draco Malfoy, the boy so far down a hole, a ladder wouldn't have done him any good. Ron was probably right, crossed his mind, he had a saving-people complex that just stuck with him, and always had since first year when it seemed to fall on him to do the saving.

The clatter of plates in their places seemed to pull Harry back to the present where Draco seemed to be nearly done with indicating things to their rightful spots. A bare table suddenly greeted his green eyes, and then the face of his husband.

"You look contemplative this morning."

"Just thinking about the old you, I suppose," Harry replied, the taste of breakfast lingering.

"Ah, the arsehole version," Draco proclaimed.

"Not much has changed," he muttered in response.

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to!"

Glaring, Draco leaned back with what seemed to be yet another cup of tea and sighed.

The silence was peaceful, it seemed, as they shared the morning in serenity. It was a rare and lovely Saturday in Britain, the sun shining in a rarity that they all enjoyed to the full. Harry found that the morning sunlight was actually quite brilliant in those blonde locks his husband had on his head, and the paleness of his skin just shone for some reason that he wanted to curse.

"Now you're staring," the aforementioned lover said snarkily.

"Oh, shut it."

Draco only scoffed, setting his tea down and launching from his chair in a burst of energy Harry didn't know he had. He rounded the table, one arm planted on the wood of the table, the other on Harry's chair. The wizard loomed over his husband, looking quite thrilled to be there.

"This past week has been like falling in love with you again… and though it bloody well hurt at first, I _see_ you differently."

Harry breathed in, heavily, narrowing his eyes to look at Draco.

"How?"

"I'm more grateful that I have you than I ever was before. To think you could have been with someone else-anyone else-it's mortifying." Draco swallowed hard, and through the thin and pale skin, Harry watched his Adam's apple bob delicately.

"You're simply ridiculous, aren't you? Falling for someone who you already love."

Smiling, the blonde wizard laughed and nodded, a grin coming onto his face as the hand on the chair moved to Harry's face. It wasn't a long moment before their eyes were locked, their breathing quieted, and their senses heightened. Soon enough, Draco fell just far enough forward to connect them, their lips meeting in another searing kiss that they'd shared in the past few days.

Harry found he loved it, unfortunately, but yet it felt so right there was no misfortune, or even the thought of consequence when it came to loving his husband. Love may have been a stretch still yet, but there was also no longer any doubt lingering in him that maybe this was better. Maybe this place was going to be absolutely _perfect_.

Harry's hands came up to Draco's neck and pulled him closer, and it seemed just right that the man fell into his lap like he belonged there. The snogging seemed to intensify quickly knowing neither of them had anywhere to be besides in each other's arms. Draco took advantage of his position, sinking into the feeling of his husband's love knowing it had been gone for a few days, and maybe still even just a bit vacant. He cherished the closeness, the way their love seemed to grow on, the influence of magical time manipulation or not, it was all real.

Just as Draco slipped a hand under the end of Harry's shirt, the fireplace in their living room roared with life, and he had to pull back quite quickly.

They shared a quick look of remorse at their lost time, but straightened themselves out anyways to see who it was.

"Were we expecting visitors?" Harry whispered, his question answered soon by a negative nod.

Immediately, whether or not their floo was closed off, the Auror pulled out his wand and went into the living area first.

He certainly wasn't expecting a crying witch to fly into his arms.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, falling ungraciously into the embrace he wrapped her in. Draco took his wand and asked him silently what was happening. Harry merely answered in a similar shrug.

"Hermione?" The blonde wondered softly, "What's the matter, love?"

"S-severus is… he's left me!"

Realization dawned over Harry, seemingly sharing the same thought his husband was having. There was really only one possibility for why she was crying and why Snape had left, and it was the same reason Draco valued Harry more now.

Severus Snape knew that Hermione didn't remember anything from their past and that she was basically a completely different human being.

"He knows."

It was no question, but Hermione nodded anyways and sniffled, attempting to reign her emotions.

"Last night," she managed confidently, pulling away from her best-friend and sitting down with the two wizards, "I went to phone my parents which gave it away… Apparently I'm estranged from them."

Draco looked guiltily on as he listened to Hermione regale them of how Severus left and wasn't sure when he'd be back.

"I should have said something about it," he immediately added when she finished, "I didn't think much on it because you don't talk about them anymore… I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," Hermione interjected, "I already tried to blame you, but it's not your fault. I didn't imagine that I could ever be so far from them like this. It wouldn't have come to me at all. Then he asked our anniversary, and of bloody course I don't know that. This is just- just a rubbish situation all in all."

Her breathing was unsteady, and Harry could tell the brunette was struggling to stay composed. Though, he felt she had every right to break down.

Harry steadily let her sit down, allowing Draco to take over comforting her as he stepped back and took a seat across the room.

"Where do you suppose he is?"

"Hogwarts, obviously," Draco answered his husband's question with annoyance, "He's had rooms there since he's been a professor, but as far as I know he stopped using them completely when you lot got married."

"It makes the most logical sense," Hermione agreed, red eyes glistening with tears.

"Forget logic, Hermione, you're obviously in pain," Draco soothed her, rubbing her arm affectionately, his seat beside her coming to an advantage.

"I really shouldn't be. I've only been here a week, Draco. I don't quite recall that someone can just become so attached to another being in such a short period. We're technically not even bonded, despite the fact that we are…"

It seemed the wheels had started to turn, and Draco looked at Harry with a curious glance.

"Didn't you tell her about what the manipulation of time did?"

"No, I never got that far last night," Harry said pathetically.

"You don't have to... " Hermione said slowly, "I think I get it. My emotions are going to morph into what I should be feeling here, shouldn't they? That's why Harry so easily came around to you, and that's why I was so easily swayed by Severus these past few days… why I'm already horribly attached to my child."

"She's not the brightest witch of her age for nothing," Harry supplied, feeling proud of her for figuring it out, but also letting the guilt take his expressions for not warning her sooner.

"Don't blame yourself, Harry, I seriously doubt that you telling me I'm growing attached would have changed Severus leaving."

Draco and Harry silently agreed, but it made neither party feel any better.

Truthfully, Draco felt quite upset at Severus for not being understanding whatsoever. Surely he would have realized that the witch couldn't fake the way she'd been looking at him the past few days? The way she always had… He hated the fact that he'd gone and left too, for Severus Snape had never before been a coward. The one described to him by Harry from their alternate universe had sounded akin to cowardly, but the Snape Draco knew? It was infuriating to imagine. Draco wouldn't have ever left Harry if he'd have played along and then found out later that originally his heart was suddenly torn from their feelings. He must have also been told about the Severus Snape she knew, however, because that certainly would have tipped anyone off. The blonde knew that personally since he hated being compared to that other form of himself which Harry had known. That menace was a completely different person, but Harry's memories of him weren't going anywhere. The morally ambiguous wizard Hermione had known was stuck now in her memories, but Draco didn't see any fall in affection the witch had for him, especially seeing as she was technically a completely different witch.

"Someone needs to talk to him," Draco determined.

"Let him figure it out," Hermione argued, "I can't see him right now."

"You're having a child together, I think he needs to realize that he can't simply walk away-"

"No," Hermione stopped Harry, "GIve it… give us both time, all right?"

Harry did not seem to be pleased by his best-friend's decision, but sighed anyways and fell back into the chair in submission.

"Hermione… I know you've been technically only living with him for about a week, but I know him, I have for years. Maybe you should let me talk to him?" Draco added slowly.

"And say what? I knew the whole time, but I let her keep it from you? Won't he merely become frustrated with you as well. That wouldn't help a thing."

"I'd rather have him upset with me than you, his expecting wife."

"No," Hermione insisted, her voice straight this time, "Just let me figure it out. I'm an adult."

"No one tell my mum and dad," Harry said lightly, "I think mum would hex him faster than either of you could apparate to Hogwarts."

"Remus will know immediately. He lives at Hogwarts since Sirius is always away," Draco added.

Harry settled lower into his chair, just thinking about everything. It was the first weekend for the students in this early September, and he was sure McGonagall was thankful for the extra eye roaming the halls. He was intimate with the mischief one could get up to over a weekend at Hogwarts, but that didn't mean the Headmistress didn't know that Hermione was in the position she was in. Harry liked to imagine that she would scold the Potion's master if she found out, but McGonagall would have to know to say something. Severus Snape was a private person, and it very well meant she would be kept in the dark.

There was no way of telling who would really find out about the couple's situation. Draco and Harry knowing on Hermione's end seemed to be a given, and it would probably stay with just the three of them seeing as no one else knew that neither of them really remembered this life in any way.

"Why don't you stay here for a while?" Harry offered, hardly caring to ask Draco if he would agree. It was obvious the blonde was thinking the same thing seeing as he nodded profusely at the proposition.

"You shouldn't be alone, plus, the stress isn't good for the baby," he said, sounding a bit more enthusiastic when mentioning their soon-to-be new addition to them all. Yet another brilliant and talented wizard or witch to add to the world.

"I'll stay, thank you," Hermione agreed easily.

"Didn't take much convincing," Draco jested softly, pulling his friend close and smiling at Harry.

So, Hermione grabbed her things from Spinner's End and let Harry and his husband care for her now aching heart.

Severus Snape really had no clue what to think as he roamed the halls that morning, patrolling for any mischief the students might find themselves up to. He knew very well what they could be capable of, his own friends and himself getting up to trouble galore in the days past. Of course there were the reserved ones, himself, Lily, Remus, all apart of this group, but that stopped nothing from James, Sirius, and Peter pulling them all along. Never did he regret those days, but he did very well regret just leaving Hermione the prior night.

It wasn't a lie that he needed the break, that he needed to be left from her and her lies for a little while, but was running to the safety of Hogwarts really the right decision? It wasn't like he was going to tell anyone that he'd up and left his witch, most likely Remus would find out, he was oddly good at those things.

He'd stayed the night before in a musty old room that had needed quite a few spells before being inhabitable, but no one had known bar McGonagall whose office he'd flooed into. She wasn't too inquisitive, he only mentioned wanting to be of help for the busy first weekend.

None of his colleagues had found him yet, though the only one he really dreaded seeing was Remus. The man would pick him apart.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, it seemed.

"What are you doing here, Severus?" The voice was rather condescending, in his eyes, and he felt accused of something already.

"Helping," he replied, turning on his heel, almost running into the plainly-attired wizard.

"Mhm, I doubt that. You're slouching, you never slouch."

Black eyes rolled as Severus felt the truth already slipping.

"Hermione and I have had a row."

"Not the first," Remus told him.

"Possibly the last."

The words had slipped before he thought. The words were not thought over, and the surprise on his friend's face must have reflected his very own. Severus didn't want to leave Hermione permanently, but obviously the thought was nestled somewhere deeply inside of his mind, gnawing at the other thoughts like returning to her and not being upset with her. Currently, his ears were red and his throat burned with the anger that swelled inside him from her lying and not telling him her situation immediately as they did Draco. The angst that came with being away from her wasn't helping the swirl of anger than surrounded his usual calm thoughts, yet there was no stopping it.

"What do you mean by the _last_?" The other wizard nearly growled.

"I- Nothing, it meant nothing."

"You can't leave her, I hope you bloody well realize that, Severus," he told the glowering man lowly, "She's pregnant. Besides, imagine what it would look like if a man so much older than her left her."

He knew what the consequences of the media would be, and they certainly weren't glorious at all. They'd paint her in a better light, of course, but at least he wasn't the man she knew from her escapades. Then, there surely would have been a massacre were he to even glance her way suggestively. Severus couldn't bring himself to think of the man Hermione had portrayed him as. It was simply a nasty thought all together, and his head was so jumbled with it all that Remus went unanswered for quite some time.

The sound of jostling children brought him back to light, and suddenly he was focused once again on his friend, not the image of his wife.

"She did something awful, Remus."

"How bloody awful? She didn't cheat on you with another bloke, did she?"

"No, of course not. Hermione could barely handle staying out late let alone betraying me in such a way. She lied… lied about something that I should have known about immediately."

Remus looked slightly perplexed at how quickly Severus could defend his wife then pull her name through the mud in a single sentence.

"Would it help to tell me?"

"I don't think she'd want me to do such a thing, honestly, she wouldn't have even told me unless I had discovered it myself."

"You're both brilliant, I'm surprised she slipped up at all. Honestly, I think Hermione _could_ very well get away with an affair if she truly wished it."

Remus was not helping Severus' anxiety in the slightest with his jokes, but he was right. They were two sides of a brilliant coin, and it worked very well for them, it always had. Their dynamic was something many admired when they were out in public no matter how many times they received disapproving looks.

"That isn't making me feel any better."

"I wasn't trying to help you," Remus scoffed, "You brought this upon yourself. Obviously she didn't feel comfortable about telling you for some reason, so you were left in the dark."

Remus was partially right in his guess. The man Hermione knew had made her trust in _him_ skewed, resulting in their row, also resulting in her trust to be given to Draco Potter of all people. He knew it was odd when she'd called Malfoy by his last name those few nights before. Something had just not felt right, and now he knew exactly what it was. It was his fault, but it also wasn't.

Severus hated that he was right in what he'd said to the witch the night before, however. She would always see him as Severus Snape the double agent, the Death Eater. Those words were strange and foreign to him, but they were true to her. Here he was domesticated Professor Snape who loved his wife and his work… the latter on occasions that didn't include miscreants.

"I just… I'm still upset. I'll most definitely be staying the weekend, most likely through the week as well."

The man in the cardigan seemed unimpressed, his lips pursed in disapproval.

"Your lover has been rubbing off on you, Lupin," Severus warned him, "The snark is becoming unbearable."

"You can tolerate Sirius, can you not?" Remus asked him, looking classically like himself as he stuck his hands in his pockets, nodding for them to move forward. Rounds weren't going to get done with them standing around like nothing was happening.

"I can tolerate one of him, barely, and that is when he isn't with James."

"You tolerate us all of the time, Severus," Remus complained, looking not as much flustered as he had been before. It seemed their bantering had resolved the initial anger that had come over him, and that was more than Severus could have asked for seeing as he should have been irate.

"We should be patrolling the halls, not having nonsense conversation."

Severus only chuckled at them as he walked on, watching the students behave relatively normally for the weekend. He wondered if they were to at all be heading to Hogsmeade that weekend, seeing as the older children could go if they wanted. It was still pleasant weather, and he would have been out himself if he didn't have the obligation of being in the castle.

Suddenly, as if she'd come from nowhere, McGonagall came sweeping down the hall, her robes swiping behind her, worry flittering about her face.

"You two!" She summoned them immediately, beckoning them towards her as she huffed, breathing unsteady.

"Is everything alright?" Remus asked her, taking her outstretched hand and allowing her to steady.

"No… Marcus is missing. Marcus Black."


	12. Another Slip-Up

A/N Honestly, I had thought that it wouldn't take me another _month_ to update, I really did... and then here we are. So sorry. I'll stop making promises now. If you're curious, though, I have A's in all but one of my classes here at good old college!

Remus looked at Severus as they sat in the Headmistress' office, feeling grim and rather helpless. There was no sign of poor Marcus Black, and they'd alerted the boy's father only a few moments prior. They were worried, that was for sure, and Severus would have had to bet on Remus' being the one to suffer the most seeing as the boy was practically his nephew. Also, Regulus was a strict man when it came to his son, so Merlin help them when the floo opened up to him.

"Why do you think they took him, Severus?" McGonagall asked the imposing potions master frightfully. Never in her years had a student been taken much less harmed under her watchful eye as Headmistress. Sure, Quidditch accidents happened as they will, but with ill intentions? This was new to her.

"I cannot be sure, Minerva. I'll have to check with James or Harry… maybe one of them will know in lieu of their investigations?" He offered.

Remus hummed in discontent, but it wasn't as if any of them liked that answer.

Suddenly, however, realization hit him.

"You don't think, Severus…" Remus trailed off on the thought for a moment, hoping he was very wrong.

"Think what?"

"It's not possibly… Peter?"

"Pettigrew?" Minerva gasped in horror. "I thought his problem was with the Minister?"

"Not entirely," Remus filled in, "It's with the lot of us. He attacked James because it got him the most attention, I reckon."

"Regardless, we can't be sure. We must get into contact with James or his son immediately."

"Can't you ask Madame Snape?" McGonagall wondered wearily, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the professor.

It seemed luck was on Severus' side, though as the fireplace roared to life and Regulus popped through, his wife as well, both in tears and looking awfully upset.

"Where is my son?" The beautiful woman on Regulus' arm wondered immediately upon arrival, her blonde hair astray, blue eyes watering.

"We aren't sure, quite yet," McGonagall tried to soothe, going over to the woman and placing a matronly hand on her shoulder.

"My poor Marcus-"

"It was Peter, wasn't it?" Regulus seemed much more aware than his wife as he looked to the faces of his brother's closest friends.

He was a tall and proper wizard, one that any would be proud to know, let alone be married to, and his wife was just as dignified: usually. It was odd to see them both out of sorts, and while the outside mask Regulus carried wasn't much to go on, his eyes moved furtively as if on the watch for the boy he held so very dear.

"We think so," Remus answered straight, seeing as he was practically family to this man.

"I want Harry here, I know he's the best Auror for the job, and I want anyone he trusts as well on this. I need him found, and I need Pettigrew in jail."

Severus gulped. They'd ask him to do reach Potter, and if he knew his Hermione at all, Grimmauld Place is exactly where she resided in that moment.

"I'll go get him," Lupin seemed to see Severus' distress, and the relief that came with the offer. He was his usual, humble self, hands in pockets and smile adjusted to make everyone feel comfortable.

"He'll have to forgive his weekend, unfortunately, there is much to be done in this investigation. James will have to be opening up the records again, trying to find out why this happened if we can't find Pettigrew within a reasonable time."

Everyone agreed, and Remus seemed to be preparing himself with nothing but his wand as he headed over to the fireplace.

He was stopped by the sniffling voice of Mrs. Black, "Will Harry be able to find him, Remus?"

"He is your son's best hope, Madame."

She nodded, reaching for Regulus as the Defense teacher exited the castle in a wave of green flames.

Severus felt utterly uneasy about the whole of the situation, especially after his domestic with Hermione. While still boiling mad, he cared for her. The only problem with his concern was the wave of nausea he had for their situation, knowing she thought of him as a double-crosser, a slick and despicable man that was thoroughly not him. Mixed emotions had been plaguing him for a very long while now, and while the long while was mere hours in real time, mere hours in a row with Hermione felt like years, more like.

He had to remain resilient, however… she saw him as less… and she'd lied. That would take awhile for him to get over. They had Marcus to worry over as of now.

When Harry came through the floo, looking completely uneased, he didn't even bother to acknowledge Severus. Shouldn't it be the other way around, he wondered to himself. He was lied to after all, none of them. He was the one who was thought of as the slick git they imagined him.

The sound of Mary Black made him cringe, however. As a professor, Severus very much liked Marcus, and this would have been a tragedy whether he liked the boy or not. It simply was more impactful him being a younger student and more favorable.

"Where was he seen last?" Harry asked, switching into full Auror mode, his jaw set tight after speaking.

"Just near the exit, he was talking with a few fellow housemates, and when they got back to the dorms they hadn't seen him since," McGonagall told him dutifully, her distress seeming to have minimized seeing as Mary Black had taken over the task.

"Alright… and your guesses so far are mostly Pettigrew?"

"Harry, I think that's your best bet right now. He did attack your father, and he's been more violent recently, gathering followers…" Regulus told the Auror stoically. He seemed to have been keeping up on the Daily Prophet's news, as had most every wizard as of late, apparently.

"Alright. If that's all I have to go on, I want to talk to the children and see what he was wearing, then I'll gather up a team, and get to it," Harry determined powerfully, tossing a glance at Severus before looking at McGonagall.

She looked about the scene with a lot of scrutiny in her judgmental eyes, and no one dared to defy her when a command came from the Headmistress.

"Remus, show Auror Potter to the Slytherin Common room and find Besnin and Hart for him, everyone else could you please give myself and Severus a moment to discuss what to do next."

As Deputy Headmaster, it made sense he was staying to chat, but as Head of Slytherin house, it didn't make any sense to not be showing Harry down to the dungeons.

The room quieted quickly, and McGonagall's gaze turned to the knowing one that had always gotten Severus when he was under it in his school years.

"She didn't tell you, did she? About her and Harry's affliction?" Minerva questioned immediately.

His black eyes narrowed as the Headmistress asked him such a question. Did she know that Hermione and Harry were not themselves as they should be? Had she been privy before even he, her husband?

"You mean to say that you knew, however? You knew that she wasn't who I married, and yet I stayed in the dark for much longer than is acceptable?"

Minerva didn't seem to offended by his accusing tone, which made him quite the more upset than before.

"Severus," she said haughtily, "I've known before it happened. Dumbledore knew."

"Of course," he snapped, "Everyone but her _husband_. A murderer, but not the bloody wizard she's married to. The one whose child she is having."

Minerva rolled her eyes quite thoroughly at his antics.

"You are being ridiculous, Professor Snape! But thank you for answering my prior question, she never told you… until now that obviously is. You seem upset."

It was his turn to roll his black eyes.

"I am royally pissed. I wouldn't have been upset, but her mind is clouded by judgment of her previous knowledge of me, and it's all bloody wrong! I am not the man she knew, but now I will never be anything more," he hissed, his pain showing through the scratch in his fluid voice.

"And now you're hiding here? I'm as sure as you are she ended up at the Potter's residence, why not work things out?"

Severus snarled at the thought right in the moment. Carrying his child or not, he was blatantly upset with Hermione and her lies, and there was nothing to make him feel any less angry over it.

"It's the first weekend of term, I figured you could use the help," Severus retorted much more acidically than he intended for it to sound.

Minerva looked like she had been accosted, but her words remained firm.

"Maybe you shouldn't be around anyone the way you are, I know I don't wish to suffer your presence right now."

Snape groaned at how dramatic McGonagall could be.

"Fine then. I'll alert Sirius that his nephew is missing, someone should," he said with a flare and then left because he knew she was right about being insufferable in the moment.

No one would put themselves in his presence now that he knew all he did. She'd lied yet again to him, even after telling him as much as she did. Who really knew her secret memory, who really knew what was going on? Would she ever be able to build back the trust he had in her before all this? Sure, it wasn't exactly his Hermione, but she took on what she did claiming to not have lost a single memory at all, allowing herself to fully be his wife.

Severus was fuming, and so when he got to his office in the dungeons, rooms stale and unused for so long, the first thing he did was not write that letter to Sirius, for it would have been full of much unneeded malice, all considering. The poor man's nephew was missing, he did not need hostility, so he waited. Snape cooled down, then wrote the letter, even keeping out their usual banter for the sake of it all. He knew Remus wouldn't be able to handle the task, Remus loved his should-be nephew-in-law, and it would toll on him as much as Regulus and Mary themselves.

Severus Snape sighed, his life seeming to be falling apart at the seams. Everything all at once always happened to go wrong when it came to him… high or low, there never seemed to be a happy medium in which he could settle into.

Closing his eyes, he spent time breathing before pulling out parchment and a quill, heavier than they usually felt.

The letter was the hardest thing he'd written in years, and honestly Severus couldn't remember the words not so smoothly coming forward before. It had been so easy on papers to correct what was blatantly wrong, and in composing owls, they'd only been correspondence, something he was rather good at. This letter however, this devastation of one's night wasn't something he was entirely ready to take on.

Regardless, he finished as quickly as the slow words placed themselves and then sent away the disconcerting news he had to offer. Sirius would take it in stride, of course he would being a Black, but there would hide within him melancholy, and he'd be here faster than one could say Quidditch.

Minerva's stern voice fell in the back of his head to simply work it out with Hermione, and while he felt all the more upset with her than when he'd fled to Hogwarts, it seemed that his subconscious was highly supportive of the idea as it floated through all of his thoughts in a simultaneous manner.

Not entirely sure how Draco would react, nor his wife herself, Severus nearly talked himself out of it… just nearly.

"Bloody woman," he swore at the Headmistress, regardless of her lack of presence as he took the floo to the Potter residence.

Voices were halted the moment he stepped in, and then the rush of chairs and scrapes of the floor preceded Draco and his wife's arrival to where he stood.

"Harry?" The blonde asked before clearing the doorway, not exactly accurate seeing as the rooms of Grimmauld had always been dark like they were then.

"No," he said stoutly, "It's me."

He felt ridiculous already, anger and fear boiling in the very core of himself. The contrast in Severus Snape was never true to him, for he'd always been straightforward, especially in the case of his beloved wife.

"You," Draco looked furious, his wand pulled in a single breath.

Severus couldn't concentrate on the flaming wizard just then, he was more certainly looking at the pregnant woman behind him, cheeks puffy, and eyes red from obvious tears. He'd done that… but she'd done worse.

His conscience really couldn't handle the battle in him as he felt Hawthorn press into his neck.

"I wanted to speak with my wife, if you would please lower your wand, Potter." Snape figured dominance was the assured way to preside over the situation which he'd beg control over. There wasn't a way this would not be led by his direction.

"Right, you make her miserable and to think you may simply pull yourself back here, the next day, like you just can because you're her husband-"

"He is, Draco," Hermione whispered, tugging gently on her friend's shoulder, "Though you're right, grant him his speech, we both have wronged."

"Are you sure?" Draco turned, wand forgotten, hands on Hermione's, worrying over her like a father would.

He and Harry had been talking about adopting soon… it seemed those plans were most likely postponed, Severus felt.

"I'm sure," Hermione nodded, moving past him and shakily approaching him, looking at him the way he supposed she looked at the Severus Snape she had known before.

They sat, in a silence that hadn't ever presided over them before seeing as she was usually wonderfully chatty and full of whatever it was came to mind. Hermione had never let him live a dull moment, even in her drones of Ruins or Magical Creatures.

"I found that even McGonagall seems to be in the know while I suffer through this hell you're putting me through now."

"Sev, I didn't mean to cause this-"

"I don't want to hear it, Hermione. I am your husband, I can take anything you throw my way, yet it seems you think I am not worthy of such important information that even a _murderer_ knows." He tried very hard to convey the contempt in which he held for Dumbledore, a contempt shared by many in the wizarding world.

"I had no choice in knowing that, we didn't control the fact that Harry's autobiography landed in his hands! It could have been in any variable amount of more terrible hands than that of a wizard who saved hundreds of lives in the riddance of one," she defended the old coot quite fiercely, and Severus recoiled slightly. He hadn't heard her like this before, it was disconcerting.

"A child?"

"A mass murderer who stole the lives and goodness from a plethora of people. Too many lost in the two wars that came directly by way of Tom Riddle. We sacrificed a lot to kill him, and poor Harry had to do it his _seventh year_." Hermione's emphasis was not lost on him, but they'd spent too long in this world for him to care about what hadn't happened to him.

This was now, that timeline hadn't existed as far as he cared to invest his thoughts.

"It doesn't matter anymore, this is here. Hermione, I love you… and with this mental lapse you're suffering from your journey, I doubt that you can fully say the same back… possibly ever. I think I afforded to know that."

"I didn't think I was punishable by your leaving, however," she snapped, hand on her stomach protectively.

"Really? Would you rather I stew silently in your presence? Look at you and think what I'm thinking now?"

Her eyes hardened, though hardly threateningly with the red and puffiness making it look juvenile.

"You know Harry told me something ridiculously interesting that Draco discovered for him recently, something I worked out a bit on my own," Hermione changed the subject abruptly, as she was wont to do when she'd fancied it. Though this had been endearing to Severus before, now it annoyed him as he continued to look at her accusingly. "He told me that my emotions… what I am feeling in this time are genuine, they're molding to what I should be feeling for those around me. There is a seed of affection for people who hadn't existed before growing in me, there is a niggle of laughter at the sight of those who were once the signal of darkness, and there is most certainly genuine love grasping my heartstrings that are assuredly sewn to your own. They get stronger by the day."

Severus Snape felt his anger melt away and remorse tug at him this time, one finally winning over the other as they sat on two differing pieces of furniture. He was sitting tall, back straight and hands on his knees, and his witch sported her whole body curled into the couch, legs tucked below. The walls of animosity were breaking.

Until, that is, she decided to continue her heartfelt monologue, "I am most definitely attached very much to the idea of our daughter."

He couldn't have been happier to have a child with Hermione, that was to say the least, but in that also lied a new spur for argument.

She'd discovered the gender? Surely, if Draco or anyone had told her anything it was that they both agreed to wait until the child's birth to discover the gender of the child Hermione was currently sheltering. Of course, he didn't know what he expected seeing as she'd defiled pretty much all other agreements on their marriage bonds. This was just another reason for his now outweighing animosity, remorse be gone! She may as well have gone and torn apart the scroll itself.

"And here I thought I'd almost shoved down my reasons to be upset, yet you tell me this now. You went and found the gender when I'm sure sometime in the past while you must have been told at least once we wanted the surprise?" He spoke clearly in case the look of betrayal and his body leaned forward weren't enough of their own indications.

The brunette recoiled, pulling herself in with her arms, swallowing in a guilt that Severus easily let her feel. There was no query to him that she should be shouldering this new reasoning for their row.

"I hadn't been here long enough, Severus-"

"Don't bother," he interjected, feeling their combined magic swell at the emotions swelling and bursting between them, harsh and flooding.

"I had been here merely hours," Hermione insisted he listen as he stood, pulling his cloak closed, but he gripped his wand and fiercely and turned back to growl lowly.

"But you knew… I could tell you know that I hadn't wanted that… that we didn't want that, yet you went on with it anyways! At least have some respect for yourself and for me! It's not that much to ask!"

He felt the cold mask he'd been holding slip, and Severus tried hard to reign it back, to not let his soft side win out, the one his wife had fallen in love with. He wasn't Severus Snape the so called Death Eater as she put it, no. He was Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster, a good man and even better wizard who loved his wife and not-yet-born child.

"Don't go, please… I'm sorry," his wife begged through quivering lips, her hands reaching for his, but he was quick to turn again and step just from her reach.

"And what will that fix? I need time," he told her, much more bluntly than before. However true it was, he still didn't want to be away from her… just the real her he craved more than this… _version_. This Hermione lied to him, repeatedly, and betrayed their own wishes.

"Right," she conceded, and he was thankful for that because he could tell she was crying now, and despite the fact he was pissed beyond belief, he also wanted to hold her and make sure she never shed another tear.

That wasn't the time, and Severus reminded himself of that as the flames whisked him away, thoughts utterly mixed and head throbbing.


	13. Loss

Can y'all just promise me you won't hate me after this chapter? I mean, at least I updated within like, two weeks of the last update! Go me! _And_ it's heavily edited! Hope you all had a wonderful thanksgiving! I have some Drarry one-shots going on if you're interested or want something small to read to pick you up at the end of this! I'll just duck out now. See you soon!

After a few hours of working through details and minor evidence, Harry felt more than tired. Not only was it exhausting to try and get information from a castle of children, but it strained on Remus as well.

Harry had to admit to himself that he wasn't affected by Marcus yet, seeing as he didn't even know what the boy looked like. Though, seeing Remus Lupin in a rough state was unnerving. Harry felt little guilt in not knowing Marcus Black, nor Regulus and Mary for that matter. They hadn't existed in his recollection. Mary may have, but Harry couldn't tell for sure, and so he went on with his usual work, though robbed of his Saturday he was.

He and Draco had been planning a pick-me-up for Hermione before work came up, and it included what would have been a nice brunch. Harry then would have treated her to a little shopping in anticipation for the little girl she was to have.

As an Auror, Harry schooled his emotions when it came to cases, but seeing Severus Snape, knowing what he did, was nothing less than a challenge. The man had ruined his witch, and after she'd been so wonderful with him as well. An hour didn't go by when Harry looked at Draco and he held no guilt for what he put the blonde through. As his emotions grew, the hours strengthened the feelings he felt for those around him. Harry only seemed to empower this weight he bared. Of course Draco had admitted to being thankful, but it did not make Harry feel any less of an arse.

He was, in fact, on no level that Severus Snape was in that moment. Snape had been a git in leaving Hermione that night, with no attempt to understand why she'd done what she had. Harry would have taken the chance she had in a heartbeat if he could have. To have spared Draco knowing, both of them knowing that their lovers weren't theirs yet. Hermione had told him her piece, and yet he failed to see any type of reason whatsoever. Angry was an understatement at how Harry felt towards the Potions Professor.

After wrapping up case files, his thoughts jumbled enough to hurt his head, Harry decided it was finally time to go home. He'd hoped that Draco had at least taken out Hermione to eat, seeing as she bloody well deserved it.

When he arrived home, he hadn't been expecting her to be sobbing in his husband's arms.

"What's going on here? What happened?"

Harry rushed over to his friend and took her from Draco's arms, petting down her hair as his eyes met gray in hopes of an answer.

"Severus came around again, and he decided that speaking with her was the right decision. Well, it wasn't because he left more perturbed than he came, Hermione even further upset in his wake. We got back from a late dinner after she felt better, but it hit her again being here."

Harry rolled his eyes, pulling her closer.

Severus Snape was a formidable imbecile in his eyes right then. It was obvious that even Draco shared the same animosity for the dark wizard. How much more would he ruin for Hermione before he realized he was being quite the unreasonable bastard?

"Did she eat?" Harry whispered, but Hermione seemed to hear him as she sniffled and pushed away from his grasp.

"I'm not deaf, I can hear you both. And yes, I ate Harry James Potter, why must you insist on being so protective? Your savior days are over here," she said, wanting to jest, but it struggled to reach even an even tone in her voice.

"Hey," Harry said placidly, a gentle hand now resting on her cheek, "You don't have to be strong right now, Hermione. I know a lot is going on, why don't you rest up?"

"No," the stubborn witch shook her head, "I have to talk about it, I can't avoid the problem as though it didn't exist."

He knew she was right, but he didn't want her to be.

"Right," he answered. Harry looked at Draco as though for help, but the blonde gave him a look that expressed he wasn't interfering.

"He came back, and while we were… arguing, I let it slip that I knew the gender of our child when we had agreed very specifically, that neither of us wanted to know. He then left again."

Hermione sniffled unfortunately, her hands shaking as she pushed away fallen tears. It seemed that her story had been the opposite of Harry's own.

"That's terrible of him," he decided again. Severus Snape, least to say, was not his favorite person in that moment.

"I know, but the strain is painful physically. The tugging at our wizarding bonds from being apart like this, emotionally and physically, is hindering my welfare.

"It hurts," Hermione finished, sounding the way her words described.

"Maybe Harry was right, love," Draco added, "You should go get some rest. Gather your thoughts. We won't deny you talking about it when you have your strength."

The quite fragile witch smiled in thanks, pushing her curls behind her ears and standing up. All the elegance she needn't have still seemed to float around her.

"You're both more than I deserve."

The couple laughed as they all came together in the middle of the room, holding one another in a gentle embrace that couldn't have come soon enough. Hermione squeezed tightly in return of the softness her friends bestowed, but they joined in soon enough. The warmth and comfort ended only a few moments later when she yawned.

"Goodnight," Hermione ended her part of the evening and left the men to their own.

"I can't believe this whole thing… over the course of a single week, too. If I wasn't living it, I'd say that these happenings were impossible within such a short span of time," the blonde wizard declared.

"I am still baffled about Snape leaving her… I mean, who walks away from their pregnant wife as an adult? Besides, she can't be the only one feeling the wear on their bonds," Harry exasperated, sounding much worse off.

It was who they were, since Draco was the calm and collected Slytherin and Harry was the brash, war-plagued Gryffindor.

"There is no way he isn't feeling what Hermione is… though he is a powerful potion's master, so he most likely took some type of tonic to reduce the harshness."

Harry grimaced, thinking about how Draco must have felt that way, even in a near as they had been. Guilt still rode him, stuck to him like barnacles were to the back of a whale.

"Do you…" he started, taking his husband's hand, feeling more awkward in the blonde's presence than ever before. "Did you feel like that at the start of this? That pain that both of us know Hermione is feeling?"

A breath of a laugh passed from Draco, but Harry hardened his features and it was obvious that he wasn't pleased with the kurt brush-off.

It seemed redundant at that point, to go over something this wizard had forgiven him for a while ago. Unfortunately, there would most likely always be that nudge from doubt, demanding attention. The feeling needed Harry to pay attention to it, to speak of the worry and to worry others with it as well. He was the last person who wanted such an awful train of thought.

"A bit… but I don't now! It was, what, Harry, four days that I suffered through? Four days that happened because you had an unfortunate accident, is all. We both seem to be for the better because of it, and you're still here. I still have you, Harry James Potter, so don't ruin anymore! That's over for all I am concerned. Got it, Potter?"

Grinning, Harry shook his head and pulled the Slytherin forward, their chests collapsing against one another. The simpler term was love, and when their lips met, it was obvious to them both. A week for Harry, but a lifetime for poor Draco who was way more thankful than previous. Lips moving smooth and forceful, Harry's head turned to get a better angle while nimble hands roamed. They only made Harry push up further against his husband, nipping at his lower lip, dipping his tongue into the connection.

They broke a moment later when Draco pushed his hands onto his wizard's collar bones, connecting him with the sofa and disconnecting their lips. He smiled, then gave a wonderful grin as a few pieces of hair fell from his perfect arrangement.

"Can I ask you a question?" He wondered, sounding breathless, chest rising and falling in smooth patterns.

Harry leaned up, kissed the man's silky neck and fell back again, nodding.

"Get on with it, Potter," Harry edged.

"I want a child."

Quite sure that was impossible, Harry pulled a confused face and sat them both up, Malfoy sprawled over his lap without a speck of grace in sight.

"Unless you plan on leaving me, that's a bit impossible-"

"Adoption, you bloody prat," Draco butted in, laughing as he roughly kissed him to shut him up. "I want to adopt… soon."

"Ah," was all Harry could muster up to say, his heart slowing at the rather serious topic.

Why now? He hadn't even told Draco he loved him yet, and he wanted to adopt with him? The prospect of having children was something Harry had forever dreamed of. wanting to be all that his parents could have been for someone else, but a week into a marriage? A week into a world where he still wasn't all that familiar in?

Still, Harry's deepest thoughts came forth in the most convenient time, he did want to have a child. It wasn't an awful time, even if there were a few things happening in the world. Just because bad things were happening on the outside, that didn't mean he could stop his living. Harry couldn't deny the angelic wizard sitting on him either, breathing pure excitement.

"You want to adopt… right now?"

"It's half eight, so not _right now_ , but soon, yes. There are wizarding orphanages now since the whole thing with Tom Riddle's murder… because of his lack of protection in a muggle orphanage. We could go in a couple weeks, after the school year settles, and then we could-"

"Adopt an orphan wizard or witch?" Harry filled in, thinking that the blonde's endless ramblings were bloody attractive in the dimming light of an evening lost.

"Exactly. It's not too much to ask, is it? I mean, sure you don't have much experience with familial love from what you've told me about the Dursley's, but here? I have that, and your parents would be great support!"

The eagerness of one Draco Malfoy Potter was definitely swaying Harry in his decision. The primal urge was new enough for Harry to handle, let alone a child, but the wizard on top of him _really_ wanted it.

"Let me sleep on it, yeah?" He hoped, the look of hope much better than that of deflation Harry had been expecting on Draco's face.

"Of course, love," he answered back quickly, pecking him on the lips, teasing Harry into wanting more.

He wanted so much more from the man, but it seemed destiny was to be working against them. In that moment an owl flew through open window and landed right before them on the coffee table.

"Bloody bird," Harry grasped at its letter and winced as the sharp beak landed in his flesh, Draco then swatting it away.

The bird left without a treat.

"Who's it from?" Draco wondered, looking at the outside with his husband's name scrawled across it.

"Dunno," Harry said, ripping it open, peeling away the outside.

He snuck a look at the end and saw Remus' name at the end, going back up to scan the rest of it.

"It's Remus, said that Sirius is aware his nephew is missing and that everything will be all right now. Both him and Charlie are coming down from work for the week. Charlie only 'cause it gave him an excuse to visit the Burrow."

Draco laughed, apparently fond of the elder Weasley brother.

"Sounds reasonable. I hope the black family is going to be all right after this. I especially hope you find Marcus."

With a hot kiss pressed to his neck, Harry felt more motivated than ever.

"I will, and I _definitely_ shall if you keep doing that," Harry mumbled, a hand at the nape of a blonde head, coaxing the man to let him feel that kind of pleasure longer.

"Really, Potter? You like that?" Draco asked, pulling Harry's shirt down to achieve the more desired sounds and reactions that he knew inside and out.

While it shouldn't have at this point, Harry was thoroughly surprised how his husband knew his every switch so bloody well. It amused him to no end as he felt one hand grip his neck, the other sinking lower and teasing him with all the layers shoved between them. What good were clothes anyways?

The thought of Hermione being in the house was evanescent as his wizard of a husband worked his magic. Harry wasn't quite sure why it felt like he was floating from a few neck kisses, but there were no complaints.

He assumed it was that bloody change in demeanor, the way that magic was shifting his feelings. Maybe they'd shifted him too far? Or did Malfoy always feel like he couldn't keep his hands off of Harry? While confused, he didn't have the heart to care as Draco ripped the shirt he was wearing off in a clean and crisp motion.

"Bedroom?" He panted, attempting to be as quiet as his pulsating lungs would allow.

"Bedroom." The blonde agreed, jumping off him and reaching a hand out to Harry, reminding the brunette of their first encounter.

He let it go, the prospect of having this wizard in more than one way a lot to resist.

This was slightly horrifying for Harry as he stumbled towards the bedroom, their hearts racing together and breaths heavy. Both were glad Hermione resided on the first floor, their bedroom on the second. Passing her may have been embarrassing as she eventually did pass their minds. Harry's fear stemmed further when they fell on the bed, tangled together, their bodies colliding with delightful friction. It was something about the kisses, the warm arms, that soon came to guide him. Harry's emotions from earlier became stronger, the magic of a change in time his strength and reasoning for their upcoming tryst

It was late in the night when they finished with one-another. Harry was happily sweaty and starting to feel the soreness dull, and his husband was relishing in feel of lying sprawled upon his stomach.

Blissful is what Harry would use to describe how he felt in that moment. His pulse didn't slow down at all as they lay there, knowing exactly what he felt for the blonde then. It was obvious to Harry now, and why it hadn't been before was conclusive enough, but he sure felt bloody awful about it. He now doubted the guilt from his and Draco's first few days would ever abate.

"Would you shut up? I can _hear_ you thinking," the taller wizard groaned, his body shifting when he jostled.

"I guess you don't want to hear what I have to say then?"

Harry knew exactly what he was doing, bating in the blonde with a very teasing tone, as if he knew something that he didn't but should.

Draco turned, looked up at him with a most sincere glare, and smirked.

"Tell me, Potter."

"Don't wanna, _Potter_." Harry had made it a point to school his features when saying this.

It didn't help he felt like breaking into a solid laugh at the sight of his lovable and docile Draco Malfoy Potter acting like the other. They were two different people, and yet it seemed to be they weren't. Harry had come to this conclusion a few times, but it was amusing then as they lay there together.

Suddenly, Draco hopped up and pushed his face close to his husband's, lips almost touching with the tilt of his head. He glanced down to Harry's lips and then back up, tongue slowly making its way over his lips. His warm hand was on Harry's hip soon as well, and the blonde was then driving the brunette over the edge.

"Tell me."

There was a quick kiss, and suddenly Harry felt like spilling.

"I love you."

Draco jumped back, grey eyes wide and stunned as he fell on his arse, the bed creaking in protest. Harry had thought he would earn a more exciting reaction than the one Draco gave, but stunned was alright.

"You… really? Merlin, I never thought," Malfoy babbled on, and Harry could only grin like his husband.

Draco put a hand through his loose and silky hair a few times before making eye-contact with Harry again, still looking foolishly happy.

"It's not just because of the sex, right?" He inquired at first, not seeming to have much faith in Harry.

Leaning forward, he grabbed Draco's waist and pulled them roughly into a quick and messy kiss.

"It's because of you."

That answer seemed to be too much for the blonde wizard to handle as he leapt forward and began to cry in his husband's arms.

"I love you, Harry."

They stayed in each-other's arms for quite a while, until night started to bleed into the day coming before them. A nice Sunday would do them well, and they'd treat Hermione nicely with some shopping for the baby, maybe a nice meal to top it off.

Harry smiled at the thought, his random kisses shared with Draco enough to keep them both up. Lucky for it, too, or they wouldn't have heard poor Hermione call out at half five in the morning.

At first, they blamed it on their imagination, yet the second time, Harry shot up like a snitch and threw on clothes. He glanced worriedly at his husband who could only offer a shrug.

Draco seemed just as confused, if not more, than Harry, so he got up as well and spelled a set of pajamas over his body.

They apparated a few floors below, but not wanting to startle an audibly crying witch, they both held off. Down the stairs they ran, Harry a bit ahead, his wand ready for the worst case-scenario.

They meandered through Grimmauld Place until her crying was clear, and Harry felt a surge of hatred seep through him. All which was in respect to Severus Snape.

That bastard was keeping his best friend up, her heart pounding with a pain unimaginable to Harry. The guilt was less prominent with what had happened between he and Draco now. For now, though, he had his sole focus trained on Hermione when he knocked on the bathroom door.

There was the definite lowering of volume in her cry, yet Harry didn't hear it stop. It wasn't his fault when she had to repeat her sentence, though he did feel bad when he learned the door was already open.

"Only Harry!" She warned. With a sorry look passed back, Harry inched the door open and slipped through.

Hermione was sat against the floor, her wand in her hand, knees pulled tight to her chest as tears fell from her eyes.

When he rushed before her, he took one of her trembling hands. Harry then had to watch as she raised tired and painful red eyes. Snape would pay for all the pain he was causing her, Harry promised himself.

"Harry… I…" She stumbled a bit, lip quivering, "I l-lost the baby."

And in that moment Harry found himself speechless, words gone and want to hold her the only thing he could feel.

Nodding, he steeled himself for the day to come, their situation now that much harder. There was nothing he could do but take her to Mungo's. So with the most tender of touches, he picked her up, not asking how she knew or why she did, and apparated.


	14. Together

_A/N: I know it's been quite awhile, and I am so sorry for that, but I just couldn't write for some reason. Now I can't stop writing, and no one will be complaining as I hopefully publish again sometime soon. And sorry it's a bit shorter than normal, but I didn't want to drag this on, and I will also be wrapping this up soon! Plus, I realized I have had Hermione and Severus apart for five chapters now? Who let me do that? _

Draco wasn't sure where they'd apparated to, but considering Hermione had been in the bathroom, and she was pregnant, he had a decent idea. The thought something happened to the child worried him slightly, especially considering she had not her husband, a man she'd warmed up to quite quickly for hardly knowing him, and they were in the exact middle of a nasty row. He hoped that it hadn't been the wear on their bonds that had caused any harm to the child, for Severus would never forgive himself. Even if he was being terrible, this was one thing Draco wouldn't wish upon the man.

He was saddened that his and Harry's own conversation would be null after this event, knowing very well his husband would wish to take care of Hermione. As if they weren't already.

While frustrated, they both cared for the young woman, a fact which would never change as long as their lives went on with her in it. Walking upstairs, Draco went to the bedroom she was staying in and fixed everything up, waving his wand over the room to assure she would not come back to any type of stress, if she did come back here. She may end up back at hers, they would hope, yet Draco had a nervous inkling she wouldn't inform Severus until they'd very well sorted things out on their own.

Her stubborn nature was probably why there were several scripted and torn letters littering the desk. They were all unfinished, and each one had Severus' name scrawled across the top in hopeful, loops, script.

"Oh, Hermione," he sighed as his magic finished placing the parchments in her drawers.

Leaving the room feeling more than sorry for Hermione, Draco grabbed a book and apparated to St. Mungo's in a hurry.

He hated hospitals, for the sole reason of who Harry was. It felt like his husband had always landed in this place more than a healthy amount of times, and it stuck each time. What if they did have kids in the future? They'd be seeing their father in the ward more often than not, and he'd come home bruised and battered. It would scar the darling little things, because there was no reason a child of Draco Potter wouldn't be just darling, and he didn't know if that was a healthy environment for a child.

"Where is Madame Snape?" He wondered to the witch sitting at the front desk, her tasks obviously keeping her busy enough to make her glare.

"Fifth floor, room fifty-seven, Mr. Potter."

Draco was more than thankful she recognized him, his heart beating rapidly at all the things that had unfolded in the past few days. Why them? What in Merlin's name had been so bad that their family had to be cursed, that Harry and Hermione had been thrown into this reality of all places and subsequently shattered everyone else's normalcy? Draco didn't hate his husband or his friend at all for what had been done to them, yet resentment for the one responsible lingered regardless.

His whole life had been tossed to the dragons, and while he still had his Harry, he now had burdens beyond what was once his imagination's limits.

The fifth floor did not come fast as Draco pulled himself up and through the people, all equally sad and joyful, annoyed and relieved, alike. Room fifty-seven seemed to hold a terribly gray aura over it when he approached, however. This was certainly not a place with happy occupants, and while Draco hadn't been gone long, Harry Potter bringing in Hermione Snape would elicit immediate care.

The knock was followed by the grim look of Draco's husband, daunted and much older than he was.

"What's happened?" He whispered, grabbing on to the wizard's hand, much needed contact happening as Harry pulled a grim visage.

"Healer did a pregnancy spell and it came up negative, she's lost the baby," he told him definitely.

"Have you told Severus?"

"No," Harry snapped, then cooled almost directly after the outburst, "He needs to know, though, and Hermione refuses to let me tell him. She just wants him over here, is all, won't let me say a lick of why."

Nodding, Draco then offered to get Severus, knowing he'd be at the school and that he'd be worried still over Marcus Black's status of missing. This, however, trumped that, and Harry knew it too. Regulus wouldn't be entirely thrilled about the precedent, yet neither would Sirius. It was simply a choice they all had to make.

"I have to keep up the search for Marcus, today. Don't care if I'm off," Harry suddenly declared, and apparently, Draco had thought wrong of Harry's precedents.

"We have to be here for Hermione right now, Harry. We cannot simply go off galavanting in attempt to find a student. No matter who he is."

"Get Snape here, then you'll be here, and hell, call Ron if you need, but I can't suffer like this anymore, I need to make things right. It's like I got here and your world fell apart. I'm sorry," Harry bolstered, brushing past Draco until his arm was caught.

"Relax, I know it's been heavy the past few days, but it will calm… you just upset the magic a bit is all," he tried to calm, stepping after Harry and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Really? I think I've brought hell here just as I did in the other world. Nothing's right, never has been for me." The brunette seemed frustrated, and with a quick turn, he got Draco to release his grip.

"Harry, you're being ridiculous right now. I think the kids talk last night was too much-"

"No," another surprise was the cut-in Draco just experienced when his husband seemed vehement- "I still want to do the adoption thing, Draco, I think it's great."

He didn't have the heart to express how defiantly he'd changed his mind on the subject.

"I'm gonna go get Severus. But it is Sunday, so stay here, for Merlin's sake, can you imagine what Hermione is thinking in there?" Draco rattled off, kissing the Auror quickly and apparating to Hogsmeade.

The walk to Hogwarts was downright awful, mostly because of how miserable he felt, yet Draco braved it anyways, knowing he had no choice. He wanted to run into as few people as possible, especially McGonagall, seeing as she'd ask questions, and Remus Lupin was one to avoid as well. Unfortunately, luck would have Draco only half-lucky as Severus opened his private quarters' doors, joined for tea by said Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

"Severus, I need a private word with you," he stuttered slightly at first, but Draco easily squared himself up as black eyes bore into him in discontent.

"Do you now? Has Hermione sent post by nosy godson?" He inquired, chuckling.

"Is everything alright? You look stressed," came the voice of reason, Remus.

"No," Draco declared, throwing away his initial want for privacy, "Hermione's landed herself in Mungo's and is demanding to see you, Severus."

"Mungo's?" He breathed, glass falling, though Lupin was quick and had it safely gliding towards him in an instant.

"Yeah," Draco felt foolish replying.

"What in Merlin's name for?" Snape demanded, Remus standing and looking more worried by the moment.

"Can't tell you that, she just wants to make amends."

The room was tense, and maybe it was the wrong thing to say to get him to leave his dungeon, but Draco figured he couldn't lie. Hermione wouldn't have wanted that, and Harry would kill him for lying in a situation like this one.

"I take it Harry is with her now, yes?" Remus wondered.

"He took her. Could you tell McGonagall for us, we really should be off, Severus," Draco hinted heavily, seeing as he'd made no movement to leave or do anything.

"Of course, and tell him to get back to Marcus as soon as possible, please. It sounds terrible when someone else is hurt to say that, but Sirius will be here soon, and he'll start throwing his godson bribes if isn't working night and day on it."

Draco almost smiled… but he couldn't seemed to muster one, and a nod sufficed as Severus seemed to grab his cloak and nod in agreement.

"Take me to my wife, please," Severus nearly demanded, stern as his eyes softened and hardened on the trip there, never staying in one place or in one emotion. The conflict physically hurt the blonde as he took the potion's master to Mungo's to see Hermione.

Draco nervously wrung his hands, wishing now for any help from... really anyone. His father or his sister, someone that could calm his nerves and offer him that small bit of solace that Harry needed as well. Maybe he should phone James and Lily, Hermione had not her parents, and the Potter's were good as.

"She's in room fifty-seven, Harry's with her now, but I think I'm going to call his parents and get them here.

Nodding curtly, Severus went forward to the room and knocked, trading places with Harry who tossed him a vulgar glance and came to Draco.

"That is one conversation I wouldn't ever wanna hear," he muttered, looking up quickly, "But I think we need to call Lily, love."

"Mum," Harry muttered, as if he'd forgotten about her existence entirely. Knowing what he did, Draco was surprised that he hadn't been clung to her form and his father's for hours on end. He was handling having his parents back rather well in reality.

"Is that alright? Hermione's parents, as we unfortunately know, aren't too fond of this situation."

"Yeah, I'd love to see my mum anytime. She'll be here for Hermione of course, but... It's just a lot right now to say anything because I feel the need to seriously go out and help look for Marcus," Harry sounded exasperated when he spoke.

"Stop, love, let's just get through today. I know it's a bloody awful Sunday, but it is what is," Draco soothed, taking his husband's face in his hands and kissing him, lips soft and wanting.

Harry responded, feeling settled at the touch, and Draco really couldn't have been anymore thankful that he could give such a peace to the Auror.

* * *

Severus looked at his wife's sleeping form with resentment, then he let the resentment fall on him for resenting her while she lay hurt or ill in the hospital. He had no clue what was going on with her, but by all means he hoped their child was alright.

"Hermione," he bid unfortunately, wishing he hadn't when her voice spoke her friend's name instead of his own. "No, it's Severus."

She turned, looking at him with a weak smile.

"I'm sorry," her first words, though he wasn't sure he could forgive her for her mistakes quite yet, "I know you don't understand, but I was an extremely independent witch who had to solve not only my own problems, but Harry's and Ron's too. The other me… well, who I am is a different person, but that doesn't make this any less real. Harry still loves Draco, and he was so understanding when it happened. I saw the hesitance, though, and I couldn't let you go through the pain I saw on Draco's face, I wouldn't allow it. You went through so much from what I knew, I couldn't be the cause of your strife."

"I've lived quite the happy life here," Severus amended, trying to get her to see his reason, though his rebuttal was weakening with each word his wife spoke.

"I bet your father still hated your mother," she said reasonably.

"And myself. I still don't get why you couldn't tell me," he wondered. Surely she had a better answer than who she was as her reasoning.

"I thought I could get away with it… integrate to life here and no one would be the wiser, bar Draco and Harry of course, and I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted you to be seperate from the man I knew, Severus, because you're not him, and I know that."

His resolve broke because there were truth in her words and pain in her voice, and all he wished to do in that moment was heal her and take her home, it was what she needed. They both needed to be home on that Sunday afternoon.

"Why are you here, witch?"

Hermione shuffled uneasily, reaching for his hand that he willingly gave, loving the feel of their palms touching, the heat she gave off invigorating him.

"Have you forgiven me?" She wondered, "Because I do not want to be forgiven because of what happened, that is no way to continue a marriage."

Dread filling his entire body, he nodded and squeezed her hand, bringing it to his lips for an encouraging kiss.

"Right. There's no easy way to say this, and I can't promise it won't hurt you at all-" Severus felt the fear tenfold, and her hesitation nearly murdered him, "-but I've lost the baby."

Severus' breathing stopped, his heart palpitations loud thunders in his head as the room seemed to fall silent. His resolve broke, and the stress and hurt from the past few days seemed to have come crashing down on top of him.

"I'm sorry," he mustered somehow, before tear fells and the weight of the past crashed over him, hitting him full force like a stunning spell.

They'd lost a child both had so desperately wanted, and it was just as real as the pain Regulus was feeling, if not worse. Neither he nor Hermione would ever know what their child sounded like, or what subject at Hogwarts would be their best. He was sure she would have been a Gryffindor like her mother, and yet they'd never find out. At least Regulus would one day have Marcus back… they hoped. Though, with Harry on the case, and all of this happening right then, Severus was never more sure in his best-friend's son.

"Don't apologize," Hermione whispered, though she sounded like her words were begging, "Come here and know that I love you, Severus."

"Did the healers give you reason as to why it happened?" He asked, denying her hug, not wanting to hurt her.

"Well, Harry was in quite a flurry thinking that it was because of our bonds being so harshly tugged on, but the healer said there was no magical folly, it was just human err."

Hermione had abated a fear he didn't even know he had, and that was that this entire thing was the fault of him. It wasn't, obviously, but he felt like an awful person for not being at her side sooner. What a git he was, though he now saw her point in having their talk first. It too her being in Mungo's for them to speak, yet he would have forgiven her in a heartbeat if that news had been told first. Though, it wouldn't have been forgiveness, it would have been something else entirely, and he would have harbored those dark feelings of regret and pain for months after 'forgiving' her, which would have all in all made things worse.

Once again, his lovely Hermione was too smart for her own good.

"I love you," he told her genuinely, picking himself up and out of the pit the news had drug him into. He'd been quite the arse over the past few days and now he needed to change that by being strong for his wife and taking her home.

"You two are so sweet," a soft voice came from the door, it just creaking open now, proving she'd only heard what Severus had said.

"Thank you, Lily," Hermione voiced, looking quite excited to have the elder witch there, a woman who had been like a mother to her since her own had quite blatantly abandoned her.

"Harry told me what happened, and he's gone off to work now to find Marcus, even though I told that boy not to," she told them exasperatedly, coming around the other side of the bed to Hermione's left, "Draco tried to stop him, too, but he's hard-headed like his father, it's uncanny."

Severus grinned, thankful for his friend, and thankful Hermione had told him about the things she'd known of her life that wasn't here. Not having Lily? He couldn't imagine having a world where her bright red hair- it was _not_ dyed, she persisted to that day still- wasn't floating about them, and when her bubbling presence wasn't filling the room with laughter.

"How do you feel in your stomach area, sweetheart?"

"There were no muggle procedures done, so I feel fine, except mentally of course, but that's why I have Severus to help heal."

Lily smiled, shared a look with him, and he felt that shiver down his spine telling him she knew more than she'd say then… or possibly ever. He and Hermione had made up, so it was likely Lily wouldn't take what she knew any further than where she'd gotten the information from. His galleons were certainly on the frustrated and stranded Draco out in the hall.

"And he has plenty of friends to help him get through his wonderings as well. I know it won't be easy, but at least you are young and healthy, Hermione, so you can always try again."

"Thank you, Lily," Hermione said graciously, and he had no idea how she mustered any grace in that moment. Severus could barely hold tears back.

"Surely, my darling, you are like a daughter to me. I wouldn't support you any less. Now, do you mind if I get Draco back in here, and I think Severus you should see about getting a healer in here to discharge your lovely wife. I wouldn't want to be cooped up here any longer than is needed, and I suspect Hermione does not either."

"I agree, Lily," Severus said stoutly, in a rush to have his wife home and in their bed, a night of rest before them. He would just tell McGonagall to cancel his potions classes for the week, just to be safe. He was sure the students wouldn't be in too much of a fuss over it.

Then again, he could simply ask Draco to fill in, though he felt that he wouldn't be entirely fond of that situation seeing as he was the housewife of his relationship. That, and Draco was probably still frustrated with him.

He kissed Hermione gently on the lips, feeling their bonds swell and recover, and then Severus was gone, wanting her home and everything to be alright again. Watching Lily as the healer explained how Hermione would have to do this and that, he saw Draco animatedly rush back into the room. The elder witch rolled her eyes, a gesture Severus had always been able to see on her from miles away, and entered the room as well, and soon they were all visiting Hermione, quiet but more peaceful.

The only problem was now finding Marcus Black, and hopefully nothing else terrible would come their way.


	15. Finding Marcus Black

_A/N_

 _And then there were fourteen. Finally, right? Might be sub-par, but it's been a while so I hope you enjoy!_

If he hadn't have gotten the letter, Harry was almost sure he mightn't have ever found Marcus Black. He was a rubbish Auror to think or even believe that of himself, but the signed and sealed owl from Pettigrew was enough to convince him that it would have taken him much longer if that hadn't fallen into his lap. James had directed the utmost caution from him, and while he understood why his father would be so protective of him, Harry was frustrated when the Minister insisted he be accompanied by more than just one Auror. Being Head of department meant he got to choose the few who would travel to where the letter directed him, however, and so he took a recommendation of his father's and then Tonks herself. He was very pleased to see that she was as happy as she was without Remus Lupin in her life, but then again, she referred to him as a cousin of sorts which would have made their marriage quite awkward if you asked Harry.

With her trusted person by his side, and his motivation of the pain Hermione was going through, Harry was determined to fix this problem, and hope it was his last.

It hadn't been allowed to hit him, the drastic changes of this world from his last, but if Harry wanted it to, the feeling of remorse was just out of grasp. When he'd first came and been able to feel the pain and anger of losing familiarity, he was too caught up in the guilt of Draco and the lack of guilt in having his parents. Now, however, as the effects of time grasped onto his feelings and his magic, making him mold and solidify into this new world, Harry couldn't find any of that angst. It made sense that he should feel all those feelings of hatred and regret, but time just wasn't allowing it, and the magic that surrounded him put up even more of a fight. He only realized it now because of the frustration his friend's condition had brought up in him.

His focus, however, had to be on Marcus, on finding this poor child before something terrible happened by the hands of Pettigrew.

Tonks winked at him when they arrived at the designated address, what seemed to be a very abandoned muggle town, and he felt the eeriness of it crawl over his skin. There had been many times this feeling had graced him, but now it concerned an innocent child. Besides, this was an entirely different world that he was in.

Pettigrew had mailed this address to him, so there was caution between the three aurors on whether or not it was a trap. Harry hadn't fallen into anything like it before, so there was such high hope that Marcus was here, he couldn't seem to reason past it. The fact that it could be a trap only made Harry want to know what was going on more.

They found house 492, it's black shingles and worn wood only wearing on the other Auror's nerves.

Harry knocked, his wand prepared and at the ready, Tonks making sure no muggles could see them. As there was no answer, he whispered a gentle Alohomora and let them all into the home. There was no furniture, and the floorboards creaked below them as they walked along the halls. Only one room hid behind a closed door, the rest were shoved open, as empty as the entrance.

A light came from the bottom of it, and with Tonks and their third behind him, Harry pushed it open, still in a defensive stance.

What he saw first, of course, was Marcus. The fact that the room was completely furnished went past his mind as he rushed through the immense space and kneeled before the boy tied to a chair. Before Harry could untie him, however, Pettigrew appeared behind the chair, and Harry was once again faced with a man he hadn't seen since his death.

While he appreciated seeing many of the people in his life who had died, this one could have remained below ground. Kidnapping a child did not excuse the fact that he had helped Harry escape Malfoy Manor. Thinking of Malfoy only made him want to go home, but he knew that that needed to wait; Marcus came first.

"I see you found your way here, then?"

His voice seemed older than he looked, but time did not reflect such on his face.

Harry looked into Marcus' eyes and tried to reassure him with the glance, but he stood to meet Pettigrew's instead.

"What do you want with him?"

"Oh, you can take him when I'm done, but I need you to listen first."

"Why would I do that?" Harry provoked, a quick look behind him seeing his partners' wands raised against the man.

Pettigrew only smirked and raised his wand, and Harry felt no retributions until he realized it was not him getting them… it was Marcus. His bounds tightened, and he cried through the gag.

"If you don't, you won't be leaving with the child. Am I clear?"

"I should hex you into a grave."

"That's where you thought I was, wasn't it, Harry Potter?" He began to circle Marcus, his twitching hand holding onto the boy's shoulder.

Harry wanted to jump him, but he had no idea what Pettigrew would do to Marcus Black if he tried.

"What do you mean?"

"That's where you thought your parents were too? Dead, and your poor Remus and Sirius? Your friend back there, Miss Tonks."

Realizing exactly what Pettigrew was implying, rage overcame Harry and he jumped at Pettigrew.

"You're supposed to be dead," he hissed, as though Voldemort had possessed him all over again, "I watched you die, you were strangled by your own hand."

With Harry's hands crumpled in his vest, Pettigrew was unnaturally calm, a tantalizing smirk on his face.

"What's he on about, Harry?" Tonks wondered aloud, her voice bringing him out of the haze of aggression he was feeling.

"You didn't tell them you don't remember the last twenty or more years? How you're from a completely different timeline? Of course you didn't, Saint Potter to the rescue once again, I assume! How'd your husband take that?"

"Shut up!" Harry commanded, forcefully, Pettigrew only smiling ruefully. "Did you send us here? Hermione and I?"

A nod, and Harry let the man go, frustrated that he hadn't figured it out at all. He hadn't even seen it coming, he thought he'd deal with Pettigrew and then one day deal with how in Merlin's name he'd landed up with a whole different life.

"I wasn't sure what would happen if I sent the book back, that was all the power I had to do, but," he straightened his clothes, a heavy wand watchful eye on Harry as he did so, "I knew I could get the book to Dumbledore, and therefore change as much as possible. Heaven only knows why he believed me. I think it's because he had been keeping tabs on the Dark Lord at that point."

"Why?" Bluntly put, but Harry didn't care for niceties as he watched Pettigrew circle back around poor Marcus.

"I served all my life, Potter. I served my parents, then your father and godfather, and then the dark lord. Sure, I was a coward, but I learned in my time being here. I don't want to be under anyone anymore."

Surprise was prominent in the room, as it was obvious bravery wasn't a common trait associated with Pettigrew.

"You're a coward and a disgrace to the name of Gryffindor!"

"Why does that matter! I don't care what you think, Harry Potter, I'm not going to live below anyone anymore, I'm going to destroy everything you have this time. Not Voldemort, not Umbridge, me."

How he could have switched so violently from one persona to another was of no mind to the Auror who merely wanted to go back to his husband. Harry wanted Draco in his arms, and Pettigrew in the darkest cell Azkaban has to offer.

"Now, I'm going to leave, and if anyone tries anything I will kill this boy with little regret."

The little bit of goodness that was left in Harry towards this shaking imbecile could tell why he was trembling. It wasn't because he was scared anymore, no, it seems the fear had turned to complete madness. Peter Pettigrew was someone else now… and so was Harry. He put his wand down, encouraging the two aurors behind him to follow suit.

"Let Marcus go."

The crazed rat flicked his wand in the boy's direction, and as his bounds fell to dust, he was gone.

Harry ran to Marcus, attempting to brush off his anger so that the boy before him with black hair and Sirius' smile wouldn't be frightened of him too.

"Are you okay?"

The boy nodded, mute and eyes watering.

"Let's get you back to your parents, alright? And if anyone asks about that stuff he said, I want you to stay silent, okay? No one can know. Everything else is yours to say, alright?"

Another nod. Marcus hopped from the chair after and embraced Harry, quicker than a flame blew out, and it brought a smile to the tired Auror's face. At least part of his mission had been successful. He had Marcus Black literally in his arms, and he could return the boy to his family and school.

"Ready, kid?"

With his third nod, Marcus fell back from the hug and took Harry's hand, smiling at Tonks and the man beside her.

"Neither of you can say anything either, do you understand?"

"Of course," Tonks assured him, "But was what he said true?"

"By the way he reacted," the other Auror scoffed, "I'd say so Dora."

She changed her hair red in protest of the wizard's antics and growled back, "Don't call me that, Dorne."

The auror shrugged, then looked at Harry and nodded.

"Thank you both, but yeah, Tonks. What he said is true, I have a completely different recollection of my life. I fought an entire war, my parents were dead since I was one… and I thought here was awful for quite some time."

She laughed, "How? You have a great life, Harry."

"I know that now, but at first Draco and I being married took me off guard because we were practically enemies from what I remember, though this world had shaped me and I… it's all different now."

Tonks smiled, "Good. I think I'm happy to be alive, too."

Harry agreed wholeheartedly. It was just too bad Teddy wasn't in the picture.

"Let's get him back."

The pair of aurors nodded, apparating them all back to the Ministry. Harry sorted everything out, called the Blacks, and made sure Marcus returned to his parents safely. The boy was quiet for most of it, but Harry understood.

Harry kept the files very low-profile and left out information because of his situation. It was a predicament that could not be avoided without sever backlash when people found out. They would want to know how and why Harry and his best friend were different from all of them, and many would probably even call them crazy. Life as they knew it was not going to change, and Harry wanted to make completely sure of that.

Not even his parents could know.

It was bad enough Draco knew.

It was something Harry regretted every day as he loved the man more and more. He was still a blonde ferret, but the only difference was that he was Harry's ferret, which made his life infinitely better.

With all that has happened with Marcus, Harry felt more assured than ever in his life about adopting with Draco. He loved kids, and he loved Draco. While the horror of what happened to Regulus would sit on the forefront of his mind for the entire time they were raising a child, Harry couldn't be deterred from starting a life with his husband.

Even after all he'd been through, his life still felt new.

And he thought that being told he was a wizard was mind-boggling.

It had been an awful Monday, and Harry was more than happy to come home to good news.

"Hermione phoned," Draco told him after they'd settled in and Harry had informed him about his day.

"How is she feeling?"

"Better, though her head is a little foggy. All the effects of magic over the past few weeks have been wearing on her. Severus took the receiver from her and told me how she's been in a blurred state of contentment for having him back, and disappointment from losing the baby. Apparently your mum told her she could try again one day, which is true, but Hermione feels like it invalidated her losing this child, so she's upset with your mum. Severus tried to assure her that's obviously not what she meant, but-"

"Hermione's been through a lot," Harry filled in.

"Right," Draco agreed, shuffling around on the couch to place his head in Harry's lap, "And Lily never experienced anything like that, so she didn't know any better."

"Hermione will understand eventually, and I am sure after mourning, they will have another child."

Draco nodded. Harry watched as his husband bit his lip, grey eyes flickering from him to the ceiling.

"Are you alright, Draco?"

"Yeah, just thinking about the past few days. I'm glad you found Marcus, but that situation hasn't swayed you from wanting kids, right? Nor Hermione's?"

Harry looked at the wizard in his lap and put his hand on soft, blonde locks.

"Of course not," he affirmed with the shake of his head, "I know that there's a lot of scary possibilities with having kids. My parents were in a war, and they still had me."

Draco momentarily looked confused, but it went anyways he recalled what Harry did on a daily basis.

"I'm glad you're not changing your mind. I really want to do this with you, Harry Potter."

"Good," Harry leaned down and crunched his stomach to kiss Draco's lips.

He loved the man more than he ever thought possible, and though the feeling was quite new, it still didn't keep him from enjoying it like he normally would. This was life partner, anyways, there was no backing out. That didn't matter when he loved him like he did however.

"You better not get in trouble for keeping your secret, Harry. If you get thrown in Azkaban for leaving out info in your reports, I'll murder you and make it look like I became a widower by accident."

Harry just laughed in response, "You know I can't let anyone else besides you and Severus know. Imagine what would happen!"

Draco sat up, turning his body so that he could rest a warm hand on Harry's cheek, "It probably wouldn't be good. Do you think Tonks and Dorne are going to keep their word?"

"I reckon, Tonks is a good friend, and Dorne was recommended by my dad to keep with us."

"Good," he declared, placing a kiss to Harry's lips.

Harry smiled, feeling ease come over him.

Pettigrew may still be out there, but at least Harry had his loved ones and family to keep him from worrying too much.


	16. Someone Else

Draco knew that Harry was glad to have put some of the stress of work behind him now that Marcus was back home with his family, and he was sure he was to start his own soon.

Of course, as it always seemed with them, nothing ever went as planned.

It was uncommon for Draco to go out in the early morning, before Harry was awake or his alarm had rung, but he felt like his husband truly deserved it. So, he'd gone down to his favorite pastry shop and bought a few random selections, giving his husband a few choices, and returning just in time to intercept the _Prophet_ , and an awakening Harry.

He didn't glance at the paper, not even a word caught his glimpse before he was stumbling into the house, welcomed by a "I wondered where you'd gone off to!"

"McCallister's! I got you a few different things," Draco replied happily, taking the paper out from under his arm and looking at his handsome husband who was in just pants, set it on the table and brought the box over to the smell of tea.

"Here," he said lightly, placing a kiss on the original Potter's cheek and grabbing his cuppa, going back to the table to take a humorous glance into the newspaper.

"You're actually going to read that ruddy thing?" Harry asked, but the words didn't take for Draco as his husband took a pastry from his box and gleefully bit into it, joining him at the oblong table.

By this point, he'd actually seen the words on the front page, and had realized, all too late they were talking about his husband… _and_ Hermione. He was frozen in place, unsure of how to broach the fact that anyone who read this damnable paper was now just as in the know as Severus and he. It was horrifying. But Draco knew he couldn't keep it from Harry, and with a grim demeanor, he handed over the incriminating article.

"What's gotten into you?" Harry asked through a muffling pastry stuffed in his mouth, his ring shimmering as he reached over with his left hand, right hand occupied by the morning's tea.

It took moments for understanding to come across his handsome husband's face, and then Draco had to dodge hot tea, falling down, but caught by a quick charm that even surprised himself with its quickness.

Harry took the pastry out of his mouth, set it on the table, and muttered a short series of 'no's' that mortified Draco in their intensity. Their life was close to ruined now that the public knew the Minister's son was not who he said he was. Well, not exactly… a different mindset, same body, Draco noted happily as he looked at his husband's defined chest and tattoo.

"It's not good."

"Not good?" Harry mocked angrily, but Draco knew it wasn't directed at him intentionally, "Yeah, of bloody course it's not good. Fuck, Draco, this is _really_ not good. People are going to think I'm some freak… or… they're going to think bad of my dad... blimey, I don't-" He cut off and began to heave, which threw Draco into overprotective husband mode, cuddling the poor man to him in sympathy.

Harry didn't deserve this, and he definitely did not deserve the hot tears soaking into Draco's shirt, or the vile the wizarding world was about to bestow upon him and Hermione. The article was villainizing them both for escaping a world that neither wanted to be in anymore, and for taking the place of respected wizards. They would be painted _criminals_ if it weren't for the fact that James was Minister of Magic.

"Hey, it'll all be alright soon, we don't have to worry. James will have it under control, there isn't a doubt in my mind."

Harry continued to sob, and with a heavy sigh, Draco began to formulate in just how many ways this whole thing could blow up on them.

* * *

Severus looked at the paper with a stink eye, knowing Hermione had been through plenty already. His wife was already frail from her recent hospitalization, and they were in mourning! Couldn't the bloody piranhas keep to themselves for once! How it even got out was a miracle question in and of itself because _he_ certainly hadn't told anyone.

Bloody hell, he could hear her coming down the stairs. The fire looked like a good place for the parchment in his hands, but he needed to do the right thing. They'd made promises not to lie to one-another.

"Morning," she said with a melancholy smile. In one way, he had his beloved back, however different she may be, but he still felt like he didn't know her at all. There was no time for thoughts like that, however, because he knew she loved him, and that he body was the same. Just because she knew a villainous version of him didn't mean she loved him any less.

"Morning," he replied, leaning over to steal a kiss as she passed him.

"Anything interesting in the paper?"

She had to have asked that question, didn't she? Hermione poured from the kettle a bit of water, then steeped her tea, looking back and wondering when she was going to get an answer.

"I suppose there's something… although I wouldn't claim it's interesting, moreover terrifying," Severus told her tensely, meeting her eye to show he was not afraid. No… but he may just be intimidated slightly by the situation.

"What do you mean, Sev? What's going on?"

"They found out about you… and Harry. It doesn't look good, that's for sure. I'd say they would have prosecuted you both if it weren't for James being Minister. They're accusing you both of… _torrid_ things."

He watched her, but she didn't seem to change much… "I don't care what they have to say. I didn't do any of what they're accusing me of, most likely. I mean, I came here and was married and pregnant, it's not like I'd muck any of that up for no reason at all."

"They're accusing you and Harry of escaping a ruined world and masking yourselves as the people here, with magic beyond any of our imaginations. They think you killed my wife and Draco's husband to meld into society."

It caught her then, just how bad this really was. She seemed less resilient now. Severus felt like he'd done this to her, making her lose resolve and break again. He wanted so desperately to go back to her complacency, now.

"Can't the universe just give me a break? First I lose the life I knew, then I discover I'm in love and having a child, then I lose that and get only half of it back. Now this? How am I ever going to walk outside? I don't even have my parents to complain to… and I've worked _so_ hard."

She sounded frustrated rather than upset, and Severus supposed that was better than he could have asked for. Tears and tissues were not what he wanted to deal with on this bleak morning.

"Please don't forget that I love you… I know it's hard right now, but what you went through wasn't your fault. Don't let those babbling _asses_ take from you what I'm so willing to give."

Severus went up to Hermione and wrapped his arms around her waist, head on her shoulder. She seemed to relax in his hold, and it was a comforting thought for him, too. He and Draco were going to be getting a lot of attention now that people thought they'd been betrayed, as well as James who was going to get the surprise of his life when the papers reached his desk.

* * *

"Minister... Have you read the paper this morning?" Someone asked the elder Potter as he entered his office. James looked at his assistant and sighed, continuing to his desk and setting his bag down atop it.

"Why would I have done that? Lily doesn't care for the paper."

"Sir, I think this pertains to you more than any headline has before," the girl insisted as she held out the paper.

"And the one about Pettigrew trying to kill me wasn't relevant enough?"

A shake of the head and James just rolled his eyes, walking up to the girl and shucking his outer robes, handing them to her in exchange for the bloody paper she insisted he read.

The title was startling.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Snape Not Themselves?"

He didn't really feel like he was registering the words right, but several scans and a toss to the fire later, James was raving.

What a cheap way for the papers to make a galleon! He was outraged that someone would come after his son in such a way, and the anger would have been tenfold were it to have been Iris as well under the firing of the vermin at the news. Oh, he would have words with them, that's for sure! There was nothing different about Harry or Hermione… well, there _hadn't been_.

His son and his son-in-law had gotten into quite the odd funk a while ago, which made things odd for sure, but they were fine now, obviously. And Lily had just been to visit Hermione who was taking a few days off because of her loss, which was completely understandable. The article suggested they'd come from some alternate line of time… but that was impossible, he was Minister for Magic, he would know about some type of spell like that, wouldn't he? No one was that powerful, not even Dumbledore had been.

James couldn't help but let the doubt come in, and while he knew it would not look good, he was going back home and telling Lily. She deserved to know, and from his mouth, that people were slandering his son… and that he wanted to check in with Harry.

"I'm going home!" James yelled as he gathered his things and snatched his coat from his ever-vigilant assistant, practically running towards the floos.

It definitely did not look good, but he didn't care what the papers wrote about him, as long as they shut their bloody mouths about Harry.

Lily seemed to startle when he arrived back, looking at him oddly as he put his bag down and hurried towards.

"Whoa there, slow down, why are you back from the Ministry? Is something the matter?"

"Sort of," he muttered, then cursed under his breath, wishing Sirius was here to lighten the mood, or Remus was there to talk some sense into him, "The papers have gone too far this time."

"What do you mean by that?" Lily asked, taking his hands, which was more than enough to calm him significantly.

"They wrote on tips from an anonymous source that Harry and poor Hermione are not who they say they are. That they're from some other alternate… time I think they phrased it. Saying how they, well, murdered the two that we knew and loved taking their place."

"James Potter, if you're lying to me right now, I will throw your bloody arse on the street."

"I'm not," he said with a shaking lip, taking one of his arms and wrapping it around her waist, "They said awful things, and… while I know that our son is ours, and that Draco would have told us if something was up… I think we need to talk to Harry."

"You're _doubting_ our son? He hasn't been odd lately, he is no different than before, I don't… what will Iris think about you wanting to interrogate our son, James? Her brother? And what do you think _I'm_ thinking right now?"

James analyzed his wife as she tried to shove him away, but then falling still, leaning into him with a lack of strength. If Severus and Draco hadn't known about this… if it was the truth at all, there were going to be a lot of people positively devastated.

"I think you want to know, whether or not you believe it."

"I don't," she mumbled forcefully, looking up at him, green eyes so reminiscent of Harry's that James prayed everything was just rumors and speculations.

"Let's go then."

Lily nodded, going to search for her coat while James waited impatiently for his wife. When she came back, her eyes were red with tears and disbelief that Harry could be anyone other than who they knew. He took her hand gently, and with the wave of their wand, they were upon his son's doorstep.

The wards morphed, and James knocked on the door loudly, hoping to grab attention from the household within.

It was Draco who greeted them at the door. He was pale, and looked like he was having a rough time of it, when realization seemed to hit him.

"Fuck," he said placidly, then regretting it instantly as James felt his face fall.

So it was true then? Well, to some extent, hopefully this man who was posing as his son wasn't a murderer. Then… well, then James would be furious.

"Let us in, sweetie," Lily spoke before he could, and Draco nodded, all the more scared.

"He's in the kitchen… but I have to tell you, he _is_ Harry, it's just… not quite."

So Draco knew then? This only begged the question of how long, and why no one had told either of them. And what about Severus? Did he know too, or was this whole thing just going to be an even bigger mess than it was turning out to be?

When James and Lily entered into the kitchen, they saw a shirtless Harry, leaned back in his chair and staring blankly at the wall across from him. His leg was shaking, and he seemed very agitated. James could only stare, wondering how much he didn't know and thinking that there was so much betrayal involved that it was going to be hard to ever forgive him for this.

Of course, though she had fallen apart while they were together, Lily was the stronger of both of them, taking her chance to go sit next to Harry, and placing a hand on his knee. The boy looked at her, and sighed resignedly.

"Who are you, love?"

"I'm me, obviously," Harry said, and James could hear the tiredness in his voice, "I have my tattoo, and I love my husband… I just… well, I don't remember anything before the day we had dinner here with you and Draco's father. I do remember some things, I just don't remember what you lot do. In fact, you were both dead as far as I remember."

Lily let out a shocked noise, "What do you mean?"

"Pettigrew cast a spell on time, and changed it, sending back a biography I wrote on how I grew up an orphan, raised by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and had a prophecy that basically made Dumbledore raise me to fulfill it and die at someone named Voldemort's hand… also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"The baby Dumbledore killed?" James found himself asking before Lily's sympathy could bury the question.

"Yeah… he raised an army, and so many people died… but when I found myself here in this body, at first I wanted to go back. The war was over, Riddle was dead, and well, I wasn't married to Draco, which then I thought was a highlight."

James looked back at soft laughter and saw this twinkle in his son-in-law's eye that seemed so appreciative. He knew they loved one-another, and they always had… but something new and fiery was in his eyes that James cared not to explore.

"You poor thing… but you say that the baby Dumbledore killed was going to wreak such havoc?"

Lily did not seem convinced, but Harry was determined and lacked remorse, " _He_ killed you both when I was an infant, and hated muggleborns for everything they weren't. It was awful, and I was forced to fight him, I _died_ fighting him."

They both rebounded, and James felt fear in his breast as Lily went pale. Their son had died? But that was impossible if he stood before them now.

"I survived the killing curse twice, once when mum sacrificed her life for mine, and the second just hours before I defeated Voldemort. It's just scary that the only person who will ever spit at his name now is Hermione and I. He deserved what he got."

A gasp from Lily brought James' attention away from the malice of his son. She was just as shocked as he was, but since it was their son… the shock wore away and pain ebbed in, demanding the leading role.

"I can't believe you remember having such an awful life here," he consoled Harry, or attempted to as Lily leaped forward and embraced her poor boy, "I assure you this one is far better, and always will be."

"Thanks, dad. Although," he laughed as he got a wet kiss to the cheek, "There are some drawbacks here… I may have dated Ginny sixth-year, and she was still alive. That and Lupin married Tonks. I grieve for their child each day, he was my god-son."

"I'm sorry, Harry," James echoed with his wife, smiling sadly.

"It's alright, I'll just have to have my own to feel better."

A sly wink went to James' son-in-law from his real son, and everything seemed just a little bit better. So what this Harry was different? He was still _their_ Harry James Potter, and that was all that mattered.


	17. The End

_A/N: I'm sorry to have ended it like this, but I didn't want to string it along any further, and I wanted to put my best foot forward on future projects which I know will be far better than this! However, I still hope you enjoy this happy ending I cooked up!_

Draco and Harry laid in bed that evening feeling drained. They'd spent the day at home and avoiding anyone who wasn't allowed entrance to their floo. It was ruddy of them to just ignore the world, sure, especially after the media blow up that was going to follow Harry and Hermione's revelation. Neither party cared, however.

Draco had sent an owl to Hermione and Severus, receiving a response that was just as tired as they felt. Harry had even said he didn't care about himself, but the fact that Hermione was included too was just too much of a stunner to the chest. She didn't deserve it, and being the "Savior" seemed to make Harry so blase about the situation and what it might mean for him, that Draco was concerned. He understood wanting his best friend not to suffer, but then there was the masochistic side of his husband that would put all the blame upon himself.

Needless to say things were not going to end well.

"I should have just told Dorne that Pettigrew was spilling lies," Harry said.

Draco turned from his back and put his hand on Harry's stomach, feeling the lean muscle and thinking about all that had happened.

"How could you have known that he was going to runt to the papers first chance he got?"

"I just shouldn't have trusted anyone, didn't I learn my lesson the first time I dealt with the papers."

Draco did not recall this moment of Harry's life. It must have been one of those things that happened to not-him.

"Why don't we keep off it for now, alright? I reckon it'll blow over eventually."

"Blow over?" Harry sounded as though he was about to cry, "They're partially right about Hermione and I. We aren't from here, and while your defenses might just be enough, along with our friends and family, the public is still going to be mightily confused. It will not go well… and I don't think we should be starting a family in this kind of environment."

Draco's breath hitched. They'd made so much progress all for bloody Dorne to let spill their biggest secret and make Harry turn on him again.

"I wish I hadn't even come here. Pettigrew and his bloody curse."

He didn't know what possessed Harry to say it, but Draco couldn't even believe it had been said at all. Nearly in tears the whole while, he removed himself from the bed, ignoring Harry's protests.

Just when he thought that Harry could lean on him and finally trust everything that they were… Draco's heart hurt.

"Wait!" He didn't listen to the calls, the heartbroken apologies that Draco wasn't going to let him take back.

"Draco! You stop right there before I spell you down!"

"Do it!" He yelled back, pulling his wand out and pointing it, seething at the man whose eyes were red and raw, hair disheveled, "Hurt me, I don't even think you could muster up anything bigger than what you pulled upstairs."

Harry recoiled.

"I was frustrated… I've caused everyone so much pain, I wish I could have left you all alone, you deserve to be happy with the man you fell in love with."

"Don't you get it, Harry?" Draco said, "Even if I did have him back… I'd still want _you_. You love me just as much as he did, and unfortunately, you are him now, but our love was different than that. I had to win you… and I wouldn't trade that for the world because I thought you'd… chosen me now. I guess I was just kidding myself. I thought if you did go back, you'd chose me again and again, no matter who I was."

"You want to know what the other world holds for me?"

Draco was fearful at the angry tone Harry had. He was not in the wrong here.

"You have a child… and a wife. From what I had seen in the papers, you had a beautiful baby boy, another blonde just like every Malfoy before you. If I went back I wouldn't have anyone… I don't _want_ to be there. All I meant by my comment was that I wish I could have saved you from all the ruin… I bring it with me wherever I go."

Draco sighed, putting his wand down. He would not approach Harry, however, he didn't quite think he deserved it.

"Well, you haven't entirely ruined us quite yet… and I doubt that you have ruined everyone's lives here. I think that your not wanting a child yet is coming from some fear that doesn't involve the truth of who you are, though."

Harry smiled, but it was sad, and she shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah, I reckon you're right…. I think it's because I can't _give_ you a child like Astoria did."

Draco nearly choked, "I was married to a _Greengrass_?"

"Yes…" His husband was obviously confused at why this mattered.

"They're notorious for in-breeding. I wouldn't want a child with their family if you paid me to do it. Besides, I don't like women."

"I can't necessarily agree, but I think that I might have a solution to your wanting children that doesn't involve adoption."

Draco was highly confused now. Suddenly Harry was at one end of a spectrum he wasn't even close to five minutes before. Still… he wanted this with Harry and wouldn't discourage him now.

"We can ask your sister to be a surrogate… if she was willing, then we would have a child that looked entirely like the both of us."

"No," he said quickly, "I don't even like the idea of her having kids… you know what my mum went through.. Why would you suggest such a thing?"

"We would check with a healer first!" Harry insisted, looking at him as though he were quite insane.

Draco thought on it briefly… "And why not your sister?"

"You think Iris would agree to that? And ruin her Quidditch career?"

"Like Aries wants to ruin her perfect figure?"

"We can think on it though, right? I think it's a viable option."

Sighing, Draco nodded, briskly placing himself in Harry's arms.

"We can't fight like this anymore, it's wearing on my nerves," Draco said casually, closing his eyes as Harry held onto him tighter.

"I wouldn't give you up for all the normality in the world. I love you."

"I love you, too, you arse."

They laughed and went back to bed, their hopes high.

* * *

Aries was thrilled to complete such a task for her brother. She had agreed without even a second thought. Since everything had actually settled down as opposed to the upwhirl Harry and Hermione had been expecting… they were more eager to go along with this plan than anything.

Their only road block now… was Ron.

Ron was extremely displeased to learn of this news, and he was livid at Aries. He knew of her mother's history, and having her face the same possibility would not assuage him. She was her own person undeniably, however, and she did not back down at his anger. In fact, she sent a letter to the Healer's offices as he watched, daring her not to with everything that he held.

Harry was not pleased with Ron.

Lucius seemed rather happy about the idea as well, though he was also concerned for his daughter's health. He knew far better than Ron did that a healer's opinion was safe and secure.

Ron did not leave Aries, in fact, he stuck around in spite of it all, which was surprising considering what Harry knew of him from their days camping in the woods when things had gotten tough. He must have really loved her.

They ended up getting a lot less backlash in the papers after James, Severus, and Draco put out statements. Everything went over smoothly.

Hermione and Severus also supported Harry and Draco in this endeavor. They were happy for them, but it did not erase their sadness of their own lost child.

A few weeks later, and Aries was cleared by healers to do as she pleased.

* * *

There were roughly thirty people in the waiting room just outside of Aries' hospital room, and everyone was quite surprised that they hadn't been kicked out of there yet. James, Lily, Severus, Hermione, Harry, Lucius, Ron, and many more were all anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Potter child. Gender unknown and names held within only two minds present.

It was a wonderful day, and from the random updates they received from Draco, everything was going perfectly fine.

So, when a young girl, as beautiful as Aries and strong as Harry was born, everyone was thrilled. The healers worked swiftly over the child in hopes to thin out the crowd outside the door, but this was everyone's child now… not just Harry and Draco's.

The moment both men held their daughter was the final seal to what would be the permanent change in both of their lives. Harry had put away Pettigrew weeks ago, his motive bigger than ever to provide a safe world for his child, and Draco was merely thrilled to have been present for his child's birth when his sister asked. This had righted so many wrongs in them both, providing a happy environment for them all.

Ron had warmed up to the idea eventually… and when he'd seen her pregnant enough to be noticeable something truly changed and Lucius Malfoy was approached for his daughter's hand.

Everyone seemed to have obtained a happy ending, as it was not only Harry and Draco who would soon permanently taking home an infant, but also Hermione and Severus. She was mere weeks along, but they expected nonetheless. In this good news, Hermione had been able to contact her parents and mend things… minimally, but they were excited for a grand-child and would come to visit in hopes of mending things permanently.

The most noticeable thing about the whole ordeal was when Harry was able to hand his child over to Lily and James with Remus and Sirius looking over his shoulders. Pride was infinitely bursting through him, and while the old version of him had done many great things… none were greater than presenting this piece of him to his parents who were still alive and well.

A life he once coveted so deeply was his and there were no complaints from him… besides the lovely lives lost which he would never know again. Harry and Hermione took them day by day, however… and soon their book was out for the world to see, not just as a tabloid headline. It told their truth, and while everyone else might not understand, those who mattered did, and it no longer felt like a bad dream but a wonderful reality.


End file.
